--I’LL GO WITH YOU
Veteran
His brother took him to a pool hall,
bought him tequila and beer chasers,
farted out loud and
commented over the texture and vibrato
of each.
His brother laughed at anything—
his own jokes,
the old geezer with a chin stuck inside
his mug,
the skipping juke box saying, “You give
love a bad naye-naye-naye-naye.”
This place had the classic arcade
games—Pac Man and Space Invaders.
Around 2:00 am
Stucky threw them the keys and said to
close up,
as if it was something he’d done a lot of
times before.
He studied the homemade tattoos on his
brother’s forearms.
Everything was short, choppy and to the
point,
no word or ink mark wasting time on being
clever:
Nam
R.I.P.
JayDed
Old Glory Hole
The little gray bug men
marched across the screen in neat rows.
His brother shot them down with his
finger beating the sweaty red button.
He killed as many as he could.
He seemed happy.
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