Ford can hang a boot up your ass, don't you worry.
BDUs button up because the zippers are too noisy,
On one occasion, a Captain explained to me.
Away from authority SSG laughed and disagreed:
It's because they equip soldiers with sewing kits.
If the enemy can hear you zipping up your pants,
Perhaps, you are already in a pretty deep shit.
Not quite as controversial are the Class B's
But being 65 percent polyester, they can get itchy.
Tight in the shoulders, however, they respond
Promptly and obediently
To any change of volume in the upper body.
Lifting, for a moment, my eyes from a book,
I noticed these frequent metamorphoses.
I used to know all there was to know about Wednesday nights at the
They were quiet. Maybe there was actually an intelligent show on
Sitting on the floor, shelves sky over me,
Converging into a crease, a roof, shelter walls,
A water curtain I could not resist but had to run through.
If it wasn't for all the words arranged in a particular order,
And feelings carved into material existence,
If it wasn't for the rustle of my thoughts turning the pages,
Being frigid would be a much bigger curse.
I didn't meet the Sergeant in the library.
After we had sex for the first time, he pronounced me a sovereign
The rest came naturally:
We continued sliding down the path of what people would commonly
refer to as
An unsuitable relationship.
Dropping bombs on the White-City was as much about peacekeeping
As my soundless unbuttoning of his BDUs is about loving.
But this is not about revenge.
If breaking one GI heart could recover Serbian industry,
I'd go for it. However, I doubt the possibility.
The Sergeant is actually dear to me.
He didn't quite repair the destroyed bridges,
But he rescued me from frigidity. Serbia should be grateful.
He's fully dedicated to making me happy.
As soon as I asked, he stopped calling me sweetheart and honey,
He hinted at the possibility of reading a book in its entirety,
He even promised to be a Human Rights activist for Halloween
If it would only please me.
Watching the image in the mirror lick her fang
I can't help smiling at the irony:
Him becoming the colony of the country he personally granted its