Navy Days – part three

They flew us to Roosevelt Roads on a cargo plane.

Six hours, with k-rations for lunch,

To a tropical paradise surrounded by barbed wire

A buss ride from San Juan

Where the ladies offered their favors for ten and six

And a man wielding a machete

Robbed a couple shipmates.

I had no money

So I stayed on base

And missed all the fun.

Instead I learned to body surf

On perfect tubes, teased a little moray maybe

In the bluest, clear, bath-warm water,

And got wrote up,

After drinking too much duty free liquids,

For destruction of government property

When I passed out on the beach

In the tropical sun

The afternoon Fleetwood swam out to an island

And stepped on some sea urchins

And broke off their little black spines

In the bottom of his feet.