I spent my last piaster
and we danced away the waste
Radiant in the drab green past tense
Content, two dying moths ablaze.
She’d walked in slow, through smoky haze,
In the heat of another Bien Hoa night game,
The only blonde in that death-drenched pall,
Ignoring all who watched but me.
It felt like we would last till morning,
And I shrugged away the lanky frenchgirl,
Placed a quiet one-fifty P
In her cool and practiced tiny hand.
The night was ours in the very last place,
Two short-short-short short-timers there,
A duffel-bag drag and a bowl of cornflakes,
We’d both fly home in the grey good light.
I was a free man once, in Saigon.
I made a chance between two souls.
The first is gone and almost old now,
But the blonde remains, and the memory she stole.
- I was a prisoner in a Mexican Whorehouse
- A long time gone
- How to brush your teeth in a combat zone
- Libber and I go to war
- Fate takes a piss
- Thanks For the Memory
- Back in the Shit
- LZ Waterloo
- Saturday Night, Numbah Ten
a long commute
Andy X Kirby True
a tale of two Woodstocks
Buy a Gun
Dawn at The Wall
Feat of Clay
I was a free man once, in Saigon
The Joint Chiefs of Staff
the shit we ate
Combat Infantryman Badge
Firebase Mary Ann
the 1st Cav
The Highest Traditions
Those Who Forget
Under the Southern Cross
Whither the Phoenix?
A Bright Shining Lie
Apocalypse Now Redux
Hearts and Minds
We Were Soldiers