Legs hanging out the Huey, chopper blades spinning overhead. Fresh Marlboro from the C-Ration hanging out my mouth. Fella next to me vomited his ham and lima beans once Charlie fixed their A.K.s on us. Bullets pang off the heli’s steel side.
I’m an angel floating down from heaven.
Hot lead whizzes past me, clips the sick guy.
Jungle sure looks pretty from up here. Whisking, vibrant tree leaves shake beneath us. Tall stalks of crisp grass wave heavily. I forget I’m in Nam, constantly.
Even soaked in sick guy’s blood, my side of the grass is greener.