I am with a youth outfit
like the brown shirts
We are at an assembly, where
they have built a sign to warn us
about a woman: Malog. She is
said to be unkempt and vicious.
Nobody knows where she lives,
but my cousin across the table
has slept with her. They show us
a tree that has seen Malog.
Its leaves are turned in on themselves.
It looks like a very surprised person.
They give us cocaine in tests
to shorten our reaction, but
we get shivery hearts. They put us
through trials: trial by exhaustion,
trial in water, trial of physical attack.
We float in the freezing ocean overnight.
In the morning the dogs are dead.
Helicopters come to pick us up.
I am the last to come aboard,
except for the dogs. Some of the dogs
are frozen together in floes, where
they huddled for warmth.
When I get inside they hook me
into all kinds of machinery.
The silver bullet in my anus
tells them I should be dead
from the cold. They pass it
around, stupefied. Our training
has gone so well. They tweak
my nipples, beep more machines,
and let me out behind the bleachers.
Where sweet old men are drowning
a sign in fresh paint.