Oh that's a blinder, Joe. Cripes that's fine.
Caleb
On 9/27/07, kasper salonen <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> these are always great fun Joe
>
> KS
>
> On 23/09/2007, joe green <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> > On This Day I Approach MY 59th Year--
> > A Ballade
> >
> > The Vietnam war was goin' on
> > And I was at Fort Hood
> > Sometimes feeling pretty sad.
> > Most times pretty good.
> >
> > I'll sing of soldiers in the rain
> > And how its sometimes pretty hard
> > And tell you how it was so strange
> > On Tank Destroyer Boulevard.
> >
> > I reported to the Orderly Room
> > To good old Major Moore.
> > Who said to me "Goddammit, son
> > Why don't you close the door?
> >
> > I about faced and about faced
> > The Major Moore put on his hat.
> > Said "Sergeant Green, I'm leaving now
> > Don't let out the cat."
> >
> > I stood there in amazement
> > He said, "That damn cat talks Latin."
> > He's ugly, mean and crazy
> > And his name in General Patton."
> >
> > Now, I know the General Reader
> > Will cry out sans belief.
> > But Major Moore strode out that door
> > With his secret grief.
> >
> > He had just returned from Vietnam
> > And was thinking "Fuck the Army."
> > And he was not the only one.
> > All of us were barmy.
> >
> > Major Moore went out the door
> > To his Buddha garden.
> > The Buddha looted from Saigon
> > When Major Moore was parting'.
> >
> > He had two guys assigned just there
> > To care for the flowers and trees.
> > You don't believe me? I don't care.
> > This was the Seventies.
> >
> > I went back to the Orderly Room
> > Right up to the company clerk.
> > "Jesus Christ what is my doom?
> > Where do I go for work?"
> >
> > The company clerk stopped typing.
> > Said, "Here take a look at this."
> > It was a novel he was writing
> > Entitled: "The Last Kiss."
> >
> > "It's set in 1984
> > When everyone is dead
> > Except for a boy and his little dog."
> > That's really what he said.
> >
> > He look at me inquiringly
> > As he adjusted his toupee.
> > He was a Mormon and a novelist
> > And, quite bitterly, was gay.
> >
> > And he played fine jazz piano
> > In a melancholy way.
> >
> > I read the page and looked at him
> > And pronounced the writing fine.
> > He perked right up. Said, "My name is Jim.
> > Do you really like the final line?"
> >
> > I looked at Jim quite closely
> > And felt that I had no choice.
> > And said in a voice quite ghostly
> > "It makes me think of Joyce."
> >
> > The I picked up my duffel bag
> > And headed out the door
> > And I seemed to hear a Joplin rag
> > As I saw who I stood before.
> >
> > It was Sergeant Major Gilmore Davis
> > Who said, "Boy, put down your gear
> > And go back and get a pair of pliers
> > And bring them over here."
> >
> > Sergeant Major Gilmore Davis!
> > In his Gilmore Davis way
> > Had a face like "Jesus Save Us!"
> > But a smile like Sugar Ray.
> >
> > Last days in Army service
> > He's been in since '44.
> > And you'll think he might be nervous
> > With all the shit he did endure.
> >
> > World War Two and then Korea
> > Three tours of Vietnam
> > But you have the wrong idea
> > He was mellow. He was calm.
> >
> > He took the pliers. Said, "Come with me."
> > We went to the Rec room.
> > Where he adjusted the TV
> > Until Nat Cole began to croon.
> >
> > "Stay here, boy" he said to me.
> > But he didn't mean it meanly.
> > "After Andy Williams.
> > We'll watch "I Dream of Jeannie."
> >
> > I went out into the Fort Hood night
> > With my gear upon my shoulder.
> > Humming "Mama, It's Alright"
> > I had a chance of getting older.
> >
> > I was there near the Second Armor
> > And the First Cavalry.
> > A screw-up in a lost brigade
> > In a Lost Company.
> >
> > The Cobras shivered above us.
> > The tanks drove down the road.
> > And left us alone. God loved us.
> > Just like he loved Tom Joad.
> >
> > I got assigned to language school
> > To that strange faculty
> > Or draftees, drunks and derelicts
> > Teaching deportees:
> >
> > Wives brought back to the USA
> > From Korea and Vietnam
> > From little villes and long lost hills
> > From Seoul and from Saigon.
> >
> > So they could work in restaurants
> > Or dance in topless clubs
> > And smoke opium in trailers
> > And give those fine "back rubs."
> >
> > One day Captain Thomas
> > Came looking for his wife.
> > "Where's that gook bitch? I'll kill her!"
> > Then he took his life.
> >
> > And she got all of his insurance.
> > She had quite a business sense.
> > And opened up a pawnshop
> > With Sergeant Gilkey, hence
> >
> > Her marriage to the Sergeant
> > Which followed hard upon
> > The orders Sergeant Gilkey
> > Got to go to Vietnam.
> >
> > And when he was listed missing
> > And then he turned up dead
> > She said "I was always lucky lucky."
> > And then was quickly wed
> >
> > To the guy across the street
> > Who had the Army Surplus store.
> > If you don't find that just and meet
> > It's what this country's for.
> >
> > She was in my English class
> > Before these sad events.
> > It was time for her to give a speech
> > And she seemed somewhat tense.
> >
> > "I was at the movie.
> > On Tet. We in Saigon.
> > Big noise. Scream everywhere.
> > Go up a big bomb.
> >
> > Kill everyone. My mother!
> > My mother, my sister died."
> > She looked at me and then sat down
> > And never never cried.
> >
> > And I remember young John Kostovich.
> > He was from Chicago.
> > He had a Ford Econo--Hippie van
> > With the usual strange cargo.
> >
> > On one side was the Peace Sign.
> > On the other side a frog
> > And underneath that was the line
> > "Onward through the Fog!"
> >
> > He drove that van to Mexico
> > And came back with some grass.
> > He told me "Joe, I wanted to just go.
> > They all can kiss my ass."
> >
> > And I remember him a year from then.
> > On the phone. I heard him scream.
> > "My brother got killed in Fucking "Nam."
> > It all seems like a dream.
> >
> > He ran right out. Got in the van.
> > Screaming all the way.
> > Jim Linden said to me
> > "Do you think he'll be ok?"
> >
> > He got a "compassionate discharge."
> > And then in 71.
> > I got a letter. "I'm living large.
> > Up here in Oregon."
> >
> > The real war was still going on.
> > Sergeant Davis said "You losers.
> > Grab your packs and get you guns.
> > We're going on maneuvers."
> >
> > I was in charge of our two squads.
> > Prayed "God, I thee implorest.
> > Enlighten all the little gods
> > To get us lost inside the forest."
> >
> > I told my guys. "We'll need a lot of beer
> > For this goddamn fake war
> > And guitars and books and a lot of grass.
> > What are you waiting for?"
> >
> > So we drove off in our Army truck
> > And I did not feel bereft.
> > Said "Damn, I can't believe our luck."
> > They turned right... then we turned left.
> >
> > The real war was still going on.
> > The fake war did not alarm us.
> > I lounged outside in the Texas sun
> > In my Grateful Dead pajamas.
> >
> > I had brought along "Ulysses."
> > Joyce was always such a charmer.
> > But I lounged outside in that Texas breeze
> > Reading Philip Jose Farmer.
> >
> > And that night Tom played his guitar.
> > Beneath the Texas moon.
> > So far away from the real war.
> > "Lay Down Your Weary Tune."
> >
> > "Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
> > Lay down the song you strum,
> > And rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings
> > No voice can hope to hum."
> >
> > Thirty years ago and more.
> > Some are dead. All to me are gone so long.
> > What in hell was all that for?
> > I end this weary song.
> >
> > "Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
> > Lay down the song you strum,
> > And rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings
> > No voice can hope to hum."
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> > ---------------------------------
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