Matthew J. Pesce

AN ODE TO VIETNAM

we laughed at you.

crusted by swill,
thrashed by thorns,
molested by mortars,
punctured by punji-stakes,
shot by small arms,
fevered by malaria,
infected by dysentery,
jungle rotting faces burdened by an
uncommon cold.

we are the American Fighting Boys!
Come to taste a war where
no one dies,
and go home almost
old enough to drink.
Thank you, Bob Chambers