The dregs of sweet tea swirled in the small glass cup. Iraqis do not hurry. I suppose a culture that reaches back over four millennia discarded urgency long ago; perhaps when they embraced generational thinking. The meeting, replete with Samoons, Dolmas and endless cups of syrupy sweet tea, stretched late into the afternoon. So, after promises, farewells and collecting security forces while the sun dropped toward the tent of evening, two HMMWVs (High Mobility Multi Wheeled Vehicles (Hummers)) snarled down the elevated stretch of the Qidisaya Expressway heading toward BIAP (Baghdad International Airport). Light drained from the sky, leaving behind a gauzy purple where early stars winked on in the spreading blackness. Urged by nervous drivers, engines and tires roared. Crouched behind dully gleaming SAWs (light machine guns) armored men resolutely scanned the dark houses flicking past. The thin sheet steel of the turret provides scant protection. Ignoring safe speeds the small convoy raced toward the FOB (Forward Operating Base) and perceived safety. Without warning emerald tracers reached out from the hulking mass of houses, hoping to greet, to touch the crouching men sweating in their heavy burden.

“Sir! They’re shooting at us!” bellows a driver.

“I see.” the figure replies out of the grim darkness, “Just drive fast. They can’t hit us from this angle.” Dun HMMWVs and flaring bullets race together in a meeting engagement of peril, perspiration, panting, and pounding heart. At the last moment razor green lines arc past, disappearing into another shadowy mass of homes. Thrumming tires fade into the darkness.

Inside the FOB, relieved men gather around vehicles as engines softly ping in the night. Evaporating sweat cools them as they chat. Helmets hang from canteens as they start to account for comrades and equipment. Some rattle belted ammunition back into metal cans, Tupperware for soldiers, to wait the next round. Perhaps then they will burst out in that burning ecstasy of purpose fulfilled, racing out to their destiny accompanied by the strange pops of atmospheric applause.

“Sergeant, thanks for the use of your vehicles.”

“Sure thing Sir. Just try to get back before dark next time. I heard you ran into some fireworks coming back.”

“Yes, but it was nothing serious. Just some harassing fire from the houses along the route.” Another bulky figure in full-battle-rattle resolves out of the darkness, shuffling past the now quiet HMMWV.

“Hey Sarge, did you have an extra antenna kit on this vehicle? ’Cause I don’t remember those holes in the side of this hummer.”

“Has anyone seen Jody?” Confidence evaporates as the men nervously glance around. Unnoticed, dark liquid slowly drips from the floor of the HMMWV, disappearing into the thirsty sand.

i was so lost in my life when i met you 2 years ago. the world had become so dark and cold, and i could tell you needed a friend as badly as i did. we shared so many adventures under the colorado stars, talking about following the train tracks to wyoming where we could race the mustangs and find out if a trained thoroughbred is faster than a wild being. you always did your best to protect me. you were always the brave one out of us.

the barn is a little colder now, without you. your nickers and warm, inviting eyes have left the place feeling, well, dead. did you find that funny? you were always the funny one. even after death, you put comfortably numb on the radio. your sense of humour was so vibrant that when god took you, he decided to give me one last chuckle.

i know you were in pain, sweet friend.

i hope you know i tried my best. goober and ramsey miss you. willy misses you too, even if he's too proud to admit it.

i hope you are no longer in pain, my good boy.

i will carry you with me. i will be brave and live out the adventure we were supposed to. go figure out the mystery of life, buddy; ill meet you in wyoming.

My eyes hold yours one second longer before I can’t stop myself from closing the distance. I swing my leg over your waist and pull your damp shirt from your skin, tossing it over the seat bench as my hand closes on the back of your neck. Your hands are cool as they pull my face in closer. Our mouths hot lava floods. I pull back and watch the sunbeams catch in the warm spots of your eyes. And your arms circle around me. And I know as you pull my tongue back into your own mouth. I know as yours slides across my teeth. I won’t come back up for air. This is where I drown.

Do you remember the nights we spent filling each other up?

You, eating my sleep as a feast.

And me, filling with your exhaustion.

Draining and bursting.

Bite down on the flesh of my dreams one last time?

Let me dig my teeth into your late nights?

Swallow down your slumber as you inhale my evening repose.

I know you’re starving, love.

So am I.

All of my love,

your sleepless nights

Little Miss Clitoris

There between thighs

What are you thinking

When your owner sighs?

There like a rosebud

Sheathed above knees

Begs for attention

To be rubbed or sucked please

Little Miss Clitoris

If you only had eyes

Then you’d see what is coming

When she spreads wide her thighs

Why the excitement?

What might fill your need

Is it because your owner

Feels a compulsion to breed?

Little Miss Clitoris

You’re a rosebud in bloom

Filled with excitement

When men enter the room

Is it anticipation

What might be ticking?

Are you hoping that this time

You might get a licking?

Little Miss Clitoris

You seem so demure

Could it be that a penis

Might make you purr?

It’s your little secret

Though you’re too shy to boast

Yet we get the hint

When your engorged and moist

It seems little Miss Clitoris

Your rosebud is thorny

Unless I’m mistaken

It could be you’re horny?

Little Miss Clitoris

Will you climax today?

A rosebud on the prowl

What more can we say?

(c) BAM