FULL METAL JACKET
The moon is hidden by a raven wing...
Market Street is soaked with fog
From The Yum-Yum joyfully "tatered" I stagger
Having my fill of story and song
Keys lost in pockets -- old pieces of string...
Trash from the bar-matches and things...
Mumbling, I’m fumbling to find them quick...
Or piss on myself in social disgrace
While a story as bizarre as BATS unfolds
For me, alone, to witness all!!!
Pajama-clad in brown and green camo...
A boy jumps from the tenement stairs
With an M-16 replica of a BB gun smoking
"GERONIMO!!!" rings through the empty night's air
While pumping a road-kill pigeon full of lead
He screams like a banshee, I am filled with dread...
"Death to the Gook pigeons and his fuck-feathered friends!!!”
B-52s of bird shit have poisoned the air
"FIX BAYONETS!!!" he imitates authority
"Do'Em, Do'Em!" he squeals with glee...
With MYLAI accuracy, he sweeps the alley...
Taking no prisoners, just following orders ...
"Every living thing, by my hand, shall perish!"
Lockin' and Loadin' while poking through garbage...
Search and Destroy 'til you're all out of victims
"KILL'EM ALL!" he shouts...
That's the system!
Just "Rats with Wings," those fucking pigeons...
Through the heavy wall of the bus station fog
Stalks one who has paid a thousand fold
For the smells the sounds, and the sights of War
Dazed and confused he pulls out his pistol
The plate in his head bulges in pain...
Like a cat moving in on a wounded canary
M-16 memories burn in his brain!!!
Red White and Blue beer signs light up the dead street
Dashing off the tube of hollow blue steel...
The Vet’s eyes glow with a thousand rounds flashing,
Fired in vain to stop the night crashing
From closing in on a young boy crying
The hissing grenade that found his buddies
Bar-B-Qued them like chickens in the cherry-bomb toilet!
Along with the child in the coal black pajamas
Perspiration and tears fill his sad hollow eyes...
Where teen love once blew on warm summer nights
And a special "Of course I love yooz...Baby"
Copping a feel on the new girl in school
In the shallow end of the public swimming pool
Back in Yonkers around 1965, before he got drafted
He was young and alive...
The studio door open, my Nikon is loaded...
Cocked and ready for a Pulitzer Prize!!!
The vet holds back the sorry truth weeping
That this lesson is a waste of cruelty so blind
Hesitation belongs to the man with a conscience
While treachery is felt in the bullet so cold...
The killer of time hides in the shadows
Waiting for the chance to murder us all!
The POP! POP! POP! of my flash distracts him!
Remembering the flares, he loses his grip...
The Boy breaks away, heads for the alley
To clean out his pants
Which are going down hill
Dropping his prey, he crawls on his belly
Into the cement Bunkers of the Dead...
"INCOMING ROUNDS!" sounds like a volcano
"FIRE IN THE HOLE!" rattles the plate in his head
Diving behind an old Dempsey Dumpster,
“No Pulitzer for me, Was it somethin' I said?!"
Holding the twisted toy gun replica...
With its brilliant sparks and authentic noise...
Revered by his friends for its extreme detailing
He’s the hot brass version of a cruel young boy
Ironically, his dad came back in little pieces
Horribly burnt like forgotten cheese toast
Dog tags melted, teeth black as coal
Showed up at the July 4, big wiener roast
Tucked in a box with the standard condolence
“Life stinks, huh kid?” I tried to console him
Not amused, he levels his gun
“GET YER ASS UP HERE!”
the mother hussy trumpets
Herself being hit-on by a one night stand
Dragging his curler-haired lipstick smeared plaything
Back into the darkness of her smelly lair
Her cocaine filled panties fall down quite freely
Apathetic to the shameful plight below
Her son runs off to finish his Recon
Loverboy cuts lines while mom puts on a show.
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