An Epistle

I wrote this as an assignment I had to do for my Poetry class. It IS a little dramatized, I have to admit. But it's all for the sake of artistic _________ (insert word which I cannot recall at this moment here). (Artistic... integrity? some shit.)





To my Buddy, Kenny

---For the good fortune we did not spend Christmas in the jungle
For the good fortune you were my buddy and saved my life
For the good fortune that you deserve



Before they dropped us off at the L-Z
For the walk back to civilization
We lived through six nights of floods and darkness

Do you remember, ‘ol buddy?
A test of jungle confidence
If we passed we would be conferred a badge
To be placed on the left breast
So we are reminded when we sing or pledge
To remind us when we bleed

My jaw still hurts
From that sixth night.
I was bleeding

The canopy was immense, a camouflage
That hid the moon and fear and delirium that had built
You sat me down low on the steps of my shelter
So you could hold my hand to your eye
With one arm up you kept the blood
From washing me into my own darkness

I’m glad I bled
That you held on
Tight and unfazed

I know you couldn’t see
Because I couldn’t either, but you tried
All the way out there in the depths of Borneo
Our very own Heart of Darkness
That scar on my fingertip reminds me
Of my own folly and your saving strikes

Not a small man
They mistake you
And your big heart.