Slow Moving Moon over Vietnam (a poem)

Slow Moving Moon over Vietnam
(in the hills of Cam Ranh Bay)
(in May of’71)

The ocean roars,
as the rain poured
over Vietnam
(in this war)—;
and here, here I sit
in the middle of it
in a hooch
as a barracks,
singing songs
drinking beer
wine and vodka
all night long,
and
screwing
women…!
pretty as a peas,
it’s how it is
most of the time here
in Vietnam….

When, when, when
is this war
ever going to end
and blow its top?

Too many dark
marble-eyed rats,
scorpions, bull-mosquitoes,
lizards like ants.

Half the soldiers
here
are on dope,
under the slow
moving moon:
some have gone
to rehab, in Japan,
others are kept
in solitary, high metal
boxes, like sardines;
the other half
are under the strain of booze;
all are under a haze
from the rain,
and some are going crazy
from killing.
And I’m somewhere
between all this
trigger happy,
and I won’t miss!

Rockets inbound
coming from across
the bay
(it’s night time):
the Viet Cong
have been waiting
all day…
they’ve been
waiting, hiding
readying to kill,
in the surrounding hills,
here,
in Cam Ranh Bay
Vietnam.

Written in Vietnam, May 1971,
Revised and rewritten, 2-11-2008


Note: While in Vietnam in the month of May, 1971, we had waited for the Viet Cong to come out of the hills surrounding Cam Ranh bay, but they didn't they went to the other side and started to rocket the three ammo dumps we had, not sure why, it was where they got their ammo also, by dressing up to look like South Vietnam Soldiers, and often coming into the dumps and collecting tons of munitions, and us American soldiers not being the wiser who we were giving them to. Foolish as it was, it didn't stop, even after they bombed the Air Force dump one evening, killing one man in a horrid fired that shook all of Cam Ranh Bay. #2247