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THE P LAC E o F The B~age I(ing THE SKU L L There in New Guinea, by the grounded metal And the birds' free flight, Under their cries, far under: Under them at the level ofthe ocean We came from the rusted freighter With a thousand bags, duffel, Kit-bags, B-4'S, A-3'S, Barracks bags, handbags, Kits, "personal bags," musette bags, Parachutes, kith and kin, And were.left, there, The recruits, The never-failing replacements As the ship drew out in darkness to the sea. There the trucks came, Or were supposed to come Out ofcombat, Moaning like the wounded, Like the enemy and friend Oflife, to take us to the tents Where the boys who came a week earlier Lay in a cold sweat, Or their ghosts lay, sweating In a small tepid fog from the ground. This was done, but I could not find My bag, my flying gear, my books, The Baggage King I 3 ...

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