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| LONG BEACH SAILOR |
| Cocaine
& heroin cut & pulled together with edge of scuba knife into a rock & tar line Sandore’s friends have a machine gun lying on the coffee table big twisted-looking piece of killing metal and they’re all laughing happy as he snorts the speedball into soul … You could hear Bobby Darin snap his fingers … 19 in the Navy just another night out and tomorrow would be swabbing the deck chipping the paint busting the rust sanding the steel priming the bulkheads and the painting of the mysterious dull gray everything, the wondering … if it’s really an alien body in cargo hold no. 3 the wandering thoughts … the screaming of “TURN TO!” meaning, get the fuck back to work! and if we’re lucky there still might be time to slush the wire rope lines and hope not to get a sharp hook sunk into the meat of palm rearranging the timeline of our future before we are let loose again for a few hours … One of the friends, a voice, I hear it ask, so, what do you do? What do you do in the Navy? As a little as possible I tell him. |
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