Alan Catlin- Three Poems

 Looney Tunes probably

 wasn't born with

 eyes permanently

 crossed but they

 sure as hell were

 now.  The blue one

 focused on a Bugs Bunny

 feature, the other one

 on a Road Runner.

 I guessed he would

 be rooting for the

 Coyote, he was that

 much of a loser.   

 Watching him miss his

 mouth from every

 conceivable approach

 was amusing for awhile,

 I even bought him a

 beer to prolong the show,

 until he became abusive,

 Sd:" That fucking Coyote  

 never catches that

 asshole bird."

 That's the whole point,

 actually."

 "What the fuck do you know,

 you're just some stupid

 asshole bartender."

 "Like the Coyote?" 

 "That's right jerkoff."

 One thing I do know

 is you're out of here

 and your beer is gone."

 I wondered which cartoon

 show I was in after he

 flipped me the bird.

I watched him stagger

 toward the door as did

 everyone else so I

 started a spontaneous bet:

 "Who's got money on how

 many trees this guy passes

 before he puts himself down?"

 Sammy throw in a buck and

 count trees."

 It was a safe bet he wouldn't

 make it far.  There was

 twenty bucks on the bar

 that said he wouldn't,

it was just a matter

of when and how many:

 easy money even if it

 was split four ways.

He was clueless in Gaza

 sucking on the folds

 of his cheeks, one

 side at a time, back

 and forth, running his

 tongue over the spaces

 where his teeth should

 have been, working on

 moaning sound deep

 inside that rose in

 intensity until it

 looked as if he might

 explode from all the

 time bombs that were

 going off inside.

 He was so leached out

 and wide eyed without

 life or force, he didn't

 have the energy anymore

 to defend himself against

 the demons that had

 taken over.  He looked

 in my direction, blue

 eyes in a field of red

 I'd seen dead men with

 a better chance of making

 it out of whatever desert

 they were in than him.

 The synopsis of his

 naval career in

 "that South Asian war."

 Was tattooed all over

 his body. "This here

 be Hawaii on his biceps.

 Don't she wiggle it

 nice?  Cost me tres

 beaucoup combat bucks.

 This be Singapore.

 Great Whorehouses there

 but nothing like Thailand

 or Cambodia.  These two

 are from just outside

 Cam Rahn Bay." I could

 tell by the blue herons

 sticking over the crow

 neck velour shirt that

 we were going to hear

 a lot more about his tour .   

 I could hardly wait

 'til he went back.