(Adult Theme)
Bagdad/June, 2004
12 Lines
My buddy drops one then another into his mouth,
eyes twinkling like a dopehead Santa
on a sultry winter's night.
America's military-industrial complex
had sent us prospecting for death
in a distant and dangerous sandbox,
fighting for another people's deliverance,
embracing the suck,
popping, dropping, smoking
till we got high enough to be
at peace with war,
speeding under midnight stars
of Mohammed's middle-eastern sky
by L. E. Bryan









