In 1967 Saigon and napalm
became words for Barbie and Ken.
Da Nang rolled around
a pink tongue within baby teeth.
In Buster Browns
I skipped in dust singing songs
to handsome Johnny.
I hid in my brother's closet,
breathing deep,
trying to smell his aftershave-
anything to see his face.
He couldn't be a soldier
if his name wasn't Johnny.
2003
