Swamp Angel Bow
Who could see it coming?
It comes, and none may foretell –HM
West by Southwest of Tybee Island, August 1863
SS Elizabeth Anne, (Darmstadt flag)
Goddam Union navy. Alabama could outrun them silly sea dogs. Elizabeth outran them all with her low fowl pistons and Heidelberg screw design. One of a kind. Cost a fortune and Carney took care of the paying. Never asked about the goddamn ship. Never asked about river land or building. International or niggers. Carney don’t care. Dutchman’s gold arrives in Europe somehow. Likewise we never ask about numbers. That is between Carney and the Baron. And look. Johnny iron clods with fancy guns can’t shoot in the dark. Dogs race. Along the coast. Ha. They lose.
Try to trap and Lizzy turns out to the grey sea. With her robin-egg blue hull she can take down masts. She is flat and clean. Buttoned up with her sea anchor she ride out anything. Nothing catch my Elizabeth. Indian pony on the sea. Ahoy there Dutchman. Got any of your fancy niggers on board. To hell with you Johnny asshole. Just come down from Tredegar. What the hell do you think I carry? Ho. Bolt of cloth for your missus. Catch it you stupid Tar heel. Thanky Dutchman. Skirts run high these days.
Could shoot him now with the Walker. Sharps can pop surprise a nosy crow in a nest at range over open sea. But even Dilger could not sink stupid Tarheel iron clod. Like a bull caught in the river. Bellow away into the darkness Johnny. There is business ahead with Sherman. Daisy will find the girls. Lost in the wild, wild sea. What girls Henry goddammit. You done alien naked daisies with all that winged lizard pilot talk. Stick to normal war stories asshole. Civil War shit just creeps them out.
Benfield Hank was back in 1972…back with earth day and earth shoes and earth stoves. Granny dresses and no bras. You could wake up with a nipple in your eye. The high school vice-principal wore sideburns and bell-bottoms; proof that we won the culture war the same way we won Vietnam. Leave. Declare a victory later. And when old grim death comes knocking at the door…fuck, fight, or hold the light… for Herr Drosselmeyer’s bowling pins. Strike. China virus matter splatter schtick. Click. Slick.
Hail the young musicians and dancing grannies.
Firebase Clusterfuck
Young Musicians and Dancing Grannies
Hosanna to the Lord of hosts,
The hosts of human kind.
Tac Zone Dingle:
somewhere in the fun Republic of Chuckles Sum Gook River; 1968
Nothing happening today, thought Dilger. Good time to drop the acid she sent. And about an hour later, the clusterfuck shows up. In a jeep. At the end of a trail. Officers. Who wander off so Dink and a copula other assholes steal the jeep and come back with cases of warm beer… and a refrigerator… and a generator. It was running for about an hour and the beer was cowboy cold and Dilger is seeing winged lizards and here comes Captain Quickdraw and Baba Louie. Farfel farfarf they say, gonna go to the clink.
Oh says Dilger. Where they have nice clear toilet water you can drink? That clink? Haw haw snort the grunts, Quickdraw unsnaps his holster and a bunch of selectors go slick slick slick. Butterflies are floating outa Dilger silver moon and everybody is sober by sunup. And there is still a case of ice cold. Owe ya for that one gunny. Put it on my fuckin tab haw haw. Beautiful day in the neighborhood. Until Blackburn and Watson got killed. Dilger was high as fuck when they threw the bags on a slick. Slick. Slick.
Really doesn’t get more obvious than that, does it. Yaz But. What does it all mean? Nobody can say? Mr. Natural can. A jagoff nightclub comedian in his garage can. Yaz but. Not CNN or MSNBC or any of the other funnels feeding the cluck-heads. Gibberish, is it? Word salad? No. It’s chicken-feed. For the clucks who want to be practical and clip coupons. For the bucks who can’t stop thinking about their peenie. Anima rising is the Elephant. Queen of queens. Infantry… queen of battles. Lord of hosts. Fateful lightning n’ shit.
Go ahead and mock the elephant. You see it as well as I do. Eyes are getting bad, and I have no time for silly girls and their flat-fuck feelings. We all have had feelings hurt. It’s different from a motorcycle crash that leaves one barking on the pavement. Broken hearts aint like broken bones. All that bawling is saying “me suffer.” Puppies, kittens, baby humans… all are wired to respond to that shit. You can make a Mr. Hankey too. And soon you will be dancing at their wedding. And not in any room you like. Fool. You’ll be bawling like grandpa.
Honest eye dew.
Reactionary Payback
Axis of Reality
Weird John Brown. Meteor of the war.
–Herman Melville
Had less than 100 hours on my ticket. Got young Dwight flight instructor invite to fly right seat in a Beech 18 on some commercial run and I could learn more about complex aircraft multi retractable instruments and whatnot. Nearly two miles up and isolated thunderstorms are sprouting like mushrooms. The one in front of us is a classic. Intercom Dwight quite right needles bouncing all over…take an average. Fuel consumption weight marker call out numbers with lightning forking at the base and making flash balls inside the thunderhead. You aint gonna fly into that fucker are you. We on the glideslope now. Batcha fifty bucks we crash.
Inside black cloud fire dripping strobe wingtip shews dead grandmother sitting… knitting on the nose. Your asshole is plucking buttons off the seat while fingers spurt out forehead spike Medusa like tendrils touching at glass block fishbowl windshield bottoms out gear down dropping decision height horizon: forty five degrees. Dwight cranks it right again and his wheels splash down puddle runway. Dwight looks like a pilot. We look like a dripping Picasso drawing. Your copilot don’t look so good man. Oh that. We just come down outta the Big Nasty.
And the stabs shall heal no more. Back in Tac Zone Clusterfuck in 68 … in the fun Republic of Chuckles. Dilger Hobart was an E5 by then… because he learned about how a corn-fed wheat boy could get his plump young poppin fresh ass stuffed in a rubber bag by a falling domino theory. Dinky made off with the M60 and it was starting to get dark. Like Dracula movie dark. Not hard to find Dink and his ammo punk in the dark. Nice position Dink. See yawl built yourselves a nice little dope house to hide the gun. Good job kids. Dope? Yeah. Whole hilltop full. You’re sitting in the middle of some gook’s cash crop. War is a business, girls. Don’t be showing your ass in front of Charlie.
Chesapeake Bay, July 1863
Von Hot cutter Elizabeth Anne
The whole army hates you. You will never live it down. Goddam yankee cavalry my best customers too. Now they shoot me on sight. Flying my ass. First they give you to goddam popinjay Siegel… who gives you to jackass Howard. Brown nose Carl gotta be a real general now- because what comes against you? Jubal’s screaming hellhounds… with the best they got in the goddam shop. With pot metal cannons they buy from Emperor Nignog and such. My poor poor bakers and brewers and clerks and tradesmen. My beautiful young carpenters and plowboys and tailors and cooks.
You come to count elephant. Step on adder.
waldopaper 
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