Today Was 'Twas. Vietnam

Today was 'twas 12:26 am
and it was every concept and every image
I've ever known.
Passed on by will and testimony.
Like an order from a slippery more sticky
menu -
The kind you haven't seen in two months.
The kind that reads in its second language
- banana slit.
Bleeding on thru the cheap.
Back-lit by some sunny-day.

Yesterday:
Spinning like a carpenters blade.
To be free of parents, patience, children.
Like cardboard taped to much
with rolls all over.
Pounding, flipped, slapped, sounding, satisfied.
And then there's love.
It's stuffed inside chunks of white poly.
Dirty cells chucked like fruit-
soaked in stuff that makes you fall down.
Scattered amongst stains of kiss.
And pissed-off smudge beater.
Court supervision and funeral expenses.
In most states
embalming is not a law.
Floating bones to the bottom of big sea.
Where sunny-day and stars
can't-not reach humerus or tooth.