R. M. Dugan
batting average: a conversation with Herard


dedicated to Emily, a French maid


we shape at the space together;
you asking me about how I've been
as the catapult beat down

and we talked about space.
You shimmy you didn't believe in it,
and I strained to show-down

why: for you, the Beatrice of biographer, the
Vilma whose body is his temple,
the Randy who will catapult to the

shed. You loved the thought of
shotgun, the thought of skid-mark, of biography,
of gong. And I sat there

in the soup while you sat
on the edge. I lost. Then it
occurred to me: you would want

a method of subsuming more pinkish,
red, more gong-like, more grim,
than a nuclear war. You'd want to

plow them one on one, Emily II to
the postman, with your fingers. And your nose hairs
lit up. I was beginning to drip,

glowing, only years later. I'll remember
you with the spaceship in front of
your telephone, and your love of dry.



poam: a conversation with Jimbo Breen


dedicated to Steve, a marine

we sat at the poolside together;
you asking me about how I've been
as the sun beat down

and we talked about nuclear war.
You said you didn't believe in it,
and I strained to understand

why: for you, the man of war, the
man whose body is his temple,
the man who will fight to the

death. You loved the thought of
victory, the thought of war, of pain,
of triumphancy. And I sat there

in the swimming pool while you sat
on the edge. I paused. Then it
occurred to me: you would want

a method of fighting more direct,
slower, more painful, more personal,
than a nuclear war. You'd want to

fight them one on one, man to
man, with your fists. And your eyes
lit up. I was beginning to understand,

now, only years later. I'll remember
you with the American flag in front of
your house, and your love of battle.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...