The Whole Motion: Collected Poems, 1945–1992

Victory

Number Two has disappeared into the chalk Ofthe sideline Number Three is cutting with half A step ofgrace my friends are crumbling Around me the wrong color Is looming hands are coming Up and over between My arm and Number Three: throw it hit him in the middle Ofhis enemies hit move scramble Before death and the ground Come up LEAP STAND KILL DIE STRIKE Now. Knock Sharing what sharing quickly who Is outside in both you together here And unseen out let the bed huddle and jump Naked in the quick dead middle Ofthe night, making what is to be There you being broken by something Open where the door thins out Making frames ofthe room's earlywarning wood is the code still The same can the five fingers Ofthe hand still show against Anything? Have they come for us? Victory By September 3rd I had made my bundle Of boards and a bag ofnails. America, I was high On Okinawa, with the fleet lying on its back Under me, whispering "I can't help it" and all ships firing up fire Fighting liquids sucking seawater, hoses climbing and coloring The air, for Victory. I was clear-seeing Victory / 32I The morning far-seeing backward And forward from the cliff I turned on the ground And dug in, my nails and bag ofmagic Boards from the tent-floor trembling to be A throne. I was ready to sail The island toward life After death, left hand following right into the snail shelled ground, then knocking down and nailing down my chair like a box seat in the worldwide window ofpeace and sat and lay down my arms On the stomped grains ofammo-crates heavy with the soles Of buddies who had helped me wreck the tent In peace-joy, and ofothers long buried At sea. The island rocked with the spectrum Bombardment ofthe fleet and there I was For sure saved and plucked naked to my shirt And lids. I raised my head to the sun. What I saw was two birthdays Back, in the jungle, before I sailed high on the rainbow Waters ofvictory before the sun Ofarmistice morning burned into my chest The great V ofAllied Conquest. Now it was not here With the ships sucking up fire Water and spraying it wild Through every color, or where, unthreatened, my navel burned Burned like an entry-wound. Lord, I deepened Memory, and lay in the light high and wide Open, murmuring "I can't help it" as I went South in my mind Yes Mother there were two fine hands Driving the jeep: mine, much better than before, for you had sent Whiskey. What could I do but make the graveyards soar! 0 you coming Allied Victory, I rambled in the night oftwo birthdays Ago, the battle ofBuna stoned In moonlight stone-dead left and right going nowhere Near friend or foe, but turned offinto the thickest Dark. 0 yes, Mother, let me tell you: the vines split and locked: About where you'd never know me is Where I stalled and sat bolt upThe Eye-Beaters) Blood) Vietory) Madness) Buckhead and.Mercy / 322 right in the moonlit bucket Seat throne ofwar cascading the bottle to drink To victory, and to what I would do, when the time came, With my body. The world leapt like the world Driving nails, and the moon burned with the light it had when it split From the earth. I slept and it was foretold That I would live. My head came true In a great smile. I reached for the bottle. It was dying and the moon Writhed closer to be free; it could answer My smile offoreknowledge. I forgot the mosquitoes that were going Mad on my blood, ofbiting me once too often on the bites Ofbites. Had the Form in the moon come from the dead soldier Ofyour bottle, Mother? Let down in blocked Out light, a snakehead hung, its eyes putting into mine Visions ofa victory at sea. New Guinea froze. Midair was steady Between. Snake-eyes needle-eyed its Lips halving its head Stayed shut. I held up the last drop In the bottle, and invited him To sin to celebrate The Allied victory to come. He pulled back a little over The evil ofthe thing I meant To stand for brotherhood. Nightshining his scales on Detroit Glass, he stayed on and on My mind. I found out the angel Ofpeace is limbless and the day...