It was at Roosevelt Roads where
I teased a pissed of eel to get him to show himself by jabbing with my foot the
rock he was under in bathtub warm, Caribbean waters while perfect tubes of
ice-blue sea rolled ashore. The 151 was duty free along with the whores in San
Jaun I couldn’t afford and instead passed out on the base beach. We were there
demagnetizing our submarine before it could be loaded with missiles and we went
out to practice in case we had to blow everything up. I passed out on my
stomach in the tropical sun and the next day was cited for destruction of the government
property of my back and so did not participate in the crew’s construction of
the beer can tree but commiserated with friends who swam out to an small island
and stepped on some sea urchins breaking sharp little spines off in their feet.
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