2 Poems – “Men in the Nude in Socks” and “Wishes for the Next War”

Men in the Nude in Socks

Hey, lookit!

These men in the nude in their socks –
all pink torso and hatchling-haired legs.
Are those bald spots on the backside
or rumps on top?
Gawd, get a snapshot
get a guffawish gawk at
the gluteus maximus,
the muscle minima.
Remember the member-
ous droop and its stoop-
endous testicular particulars.
Come, let us gaa-gaa this fold-out,
slather our ardor at this
bare-boned dualped planted in argyles.
Observe, observe:

Herr Fashionable Fuzzy Foot,
dimples, moles, flabulous contours,
a hauch to shame the showcase tapestries
of a meat market, oh there’s more …

No nothing more than the image
of men in the nude in their socks
and the point of the image is for:

Men in the nude in socks do not make war.
Wishes for the Next War

That the dogs of war on the eve of battle
share their fleas with their generals’ socks.

That codes of smart bombs be sent to dyslexic pilots,
who drop all their ordinance into the sea.
That tanks on the road to glory return to base
with the hiccups.

That soldiers on opposite sides in separate tents
get sent by scrambled mail
the photos of each others’ families.
That field commanders lose interest.
That subsequent orders begin with “If you’d like to …”
That maps of battle crumble like manna from heaven.

That generals dance for peace.
That the checks for weapons bounce.
That vultures starve from lack of spoils.
That the troops sleep in, this morning, tomorrow,
and as long as it suits them,
knowing the sweetness of time on one brief earth.