a darker blade of black - from West of Eden, written by c o mccauley
a darker blade of
black
they served Molotov cocktails
off a
balcony
of
the lane xang hotel
hunter thomson
wearing
only Bermuda shorts
sipped
gin in the lobby
a pretty young Laotian girl
brought
buckets of ice
and
fondled his lap
massive doses of acid
ignored
mortar rounds
but
caught the slow blur
of a high ceiling fan
circling
monsoon air
from
the Mekong river
pathet lao voices chattered
as
AK-47s opened up
and
I drank wild-turkey naked
on the kingsized bed
in a
hollow dark room
complete
with refrigerator and bar
a lethal pill furnished
by CIA
to all pilots
close
on the teak night stand
exploding mortars
sucked
the air with brilliant strobes
the gardener was killed
along
with a few palm trees
sulfur shrapnel and a severed arm
closed
the Olympic swimming pool
for
a week
Saigon was still infected
with khaki and deceit
as more nuggets and puddleknockers
arrived
at Vientiane
waiting with swagger
for a
clandestine flight
into
the shadow war
their gray flight bags a dead-give-away
airborne assassins
under
cover of Washington
we
flew dark missions of deception
and my morning sweats
on that
cold tile floor of the lane xang
would
last a long time
as I mutilate nights into a dead morning
I believe this is written by an old acquaintance of mine from the little town of North East as I am fairly certain that he served in Vietnam as a pilot.
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