Thursday, July 30, 2015


by james bezerra
I used to know
a guy from Mexico
who spent a couple of our wars
floating in the sea,
loading ordinance
under big gray wings
of big gray F/A-18s.
He was the guy
in the vest, in the helmet
who wrote funny things in grease pencil
on the sides of warheads.
before they killed people.
He used to smuggle moonshine
back from Mexico
in gas cans.
He’d get drunk and sing Sublime.
His tour ended
and he still couldn’t get
This man who did
so much more than me.
I don’t know what became of him.


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