Blooper Check

"That ain’t shit',"

Said the young soldier

At the theatre,

In the rear, waiting

For the flic to start.

I was behind him,

watched him arrive.

He and his partner

Had mud on their boots,

No twinkle in their eyes,

They met two others

Who just like them 

appeared to be taking 

a break from  the war.

The four of them

Were talking about

The week before

When a platoon

Just like theirs 

Massacred people

At the vill of My lai 

“Me and my man,"

He explained nodding 

At the soldier next to him,

"We got a new blooper

That had to be checked out.

There in a paddy

Not too far away

Was a Mamasan

And her kid with their

Buffalo planting some

Rice in the mud of a 

Field not far from their vill

We dropped in a grenade

pointed it at them,

Pulled the trigger and

Blew them away, the

Blooper checked out

just fine." He finished

With a grin

What the fuck I thought

To myself, But just then

the music began to play.

As we all stood for the 

national hymn and then

We all calmly watched

An adventure unfold

Before our very own eyes.

Boom, Boom, Boomers

They came home in a rush

with the pent up lust 

of soldiers 

returning from war.

Soon they created  

a lump of humanity 

that disturbed the tranquility 

of modern American life.

So the boys were packed up 

to relieve the bulge,

a late abortion, so to speak,

and sent to a senseless war.

When they came home

If they came home

those who stayed home

called them all sorts of names.

The left and right

disrupted their lives,

again and again and

sent their children

to more senseless wars.

This time no one called them names.

Progress of sorts.