the heat is an emotion
like the fluid exertion
roll over and inhale
the burning shit
aroma swirling above
the buffalo hay and
buildings scattered

dried mud flakes
on everything
we are mummies
of canals where
everyone crawls
slowly

the roads mined
and everything crushed
by the forty eight tons
of the tankers

thick american diesel
exhaust

dont mind the stinking of
the water takes the monotony
away
the slick slings against the
mud the sixty working again
and we cut down the "little joe's"
with the sixteens
wait for the arvn's to pick up the
survivors

the sky is full of holes where
it dips against where the saw grass
grows