the signal

back in the forties, during the world war, if an american sailor got steak and eggs for breakfast a day of battle lay ahead. for many it would be their last meal, downed with coffee. the torpedo bombers were lethargic and pilots realized they would be easily cooked by the zeros. the dive bombers went out to sea in squadrons with compasses, pencils and the sun to guide them. they kept their cockpits open and dropped at impossible angles to meet their targets. often a painted red sun on the deck of a japanese carrier. insanely they dropped full speed into the anti-aircraft fire, to drop their ordinance and pull up at the last possible moment. dreaming to make it home alive. many were shot out of the sky. many ran out of fuel and got swallowed by the sea.

type.writer (archive #K) -i

1997
I had a Smith Corona postbellum typewriter

the war was for the world

so very wide

no.2 and sharp as a pencil

The body of the typewriter was a solid drab green

like a soldier

Millions were filled with lead

no flowers but peaceful anyway

i met myrtle rhymes with turtle where the flowers got wiped out by the heat wave. my cats followed me there, several cracks in the pavement away from home. tomcat stayed home to guard the house. i always tell him 'guard the house' on my way out. he grunts. not sure he wants the job but he sure handles it and we've never had a break-in.

Sentry

world war two in color's no different from world war two in black in white or world war two with butter on toast. or world war two sandwiched between world war one and three. or world war two on skis. and there is footage! Russians blazing down the slopes of the Eastern Front. on skis. Germans surrender. on knees.

Tomcat on watch

myrtle is from North Dakota and im from New Hampshire and we know cruel winters. we just met and we get along fine. just after dawn and talkin up a storm, a storm of words. i wonder if everyone got out of their houses at dawn and followed the cracks aimlessly into one another...

Tomcat aka Rolly Polly