Twisted Sleep

The boy with the whirlpool scars
in his belly twisted
sleepless in the hospital sheets,
calling out in the night
for a shot the doctors had decided
he didn't need anymore.


"Please," he begged,
"I'm hurting so bad that
as soon as these holes in me
close,
I'm going back to the Nam,
but come on, man, have a
heart.


"They  ruined me there and
all I can think about is killing
gooks, oh,  shit, I hurt and
these round-eye bitches
won't touch me and
give me that shot, you mother
fucker. Can't you feel
nothing?"


So I did and watched
the honey flow over the 
coals and lied
in the nurse's  report and
pushed back the inevitable
for a while.