IN TIME OF WAR

Hitch a ride to the front line
on a jeep, a tank, a troop carrier
Bring your sun-glasses and your camera
your fear, your adrenaline,
your congressional medal of honor,
C-rations, Q-tips, band aids,
blood plasma, double-strength aspirin,
and a joint, yes bring a joint,
an exocet missile
and several rounds of ammunition
some letters from home
preferably with pictures,
a message from Garcia,
an "I'm proud of you Son"
with a handshake from the President
the commander-in-chief.

Bring a six-pac of beer,
a penthouse magazine
and the score of the football game.
Bring a telegram from the war department
with a "We regret to inform you. . ."
Bring a monument, a war memorial
and a ticker-tape parade down Broadway.
Bring shoe polish, a gas mask
and a high-school diploma.

Bring words of encouragement
from the folks back home
at the pentagon, at the war factory,
at the movies or the local bar.
Tell them I'm doing a job for my country,
I'm a good American, a patriot.
Bring a laxative, under-arm deodorant,
penicillin, and the guys from M.A.S.H.
Bring a prayer from someone
who still believes in God.

Shoe polish, bring shoe polish.
Oh! I said that already.
"Gee Mom. I'd like to go home".
Bring Bob Hope. No! Never mind!
Don't bring Bob Hope.
Bring nostalgia and the girls
from the Stage Door Canteen
An American flag,
bring an American flag, a big one
like the one we raised on Iwo Jima.
Bring an artificial limb or two
just in case, you know,
just in case.

Bring a return ticket
if they aren't all sold out.
And bring a where the hell am I?
and what the hell am I doing here?
And something, please bring something
that will stop me from shaking.

Jay Frankston
wlp@mcn.org