November 20, 2011

  •  

     

     

     

     

     

    The Pleasure Domes    

     

    The nuns waver inthe shimmer an hour before the afternoon rain

    Devils dance in the streets

    Bunker oil has not been laid as yet to still them

    Across the strait -The skies above the mountains of Samaar

    Slowly blacken with jungle moisture on its way to join our own

     

    In the shallows -The masts of sunken ships lance skyward to mark their graves

    Blown pillboxes rubbled on the beach

    Mix with pristine sand to mark more graves

    Occasionally a bloated corpse floats in to be degassed with a forty-five

    If it is one of ours - or just left to be exploded by the sun

     

    Sweat soaks us as we line up yet again in the merciless heat

    Palm-shade not helping much as we await our turns

    Outside the rounded metal hut

    It was thrown up less than a week after the town had been secured

    Tagalog notices distributed and the hiring of eager applicants begun

     

    It’s been four months since the supreme generalissimo returned as promised

    Splashing ashore more than once for army movie-cams to get it right

    One of his first decrees - To build the pleasure domes

    Staffed with his docs and medics who now short-arm us all

    And also make sure the girls are clean

     

    No blacks are seen in our protracted line

    (It would be years before equality's affirmed)

    Their own much smaller quonset near the strip is hidden in the bush

    On the other side of town - It trembles slightly adding to the thrill

    As the Billies and the 38's roar off on useless runs

     

    The nuns? - They come and go oblivious of our long queue

    (Embarrassed men and boys)

    For there's a nunnery across the way and the nuns of Santa Cruz

    Silently they come and go in darkness and in light

    To minister to their debilitated flock at a hastily-rebuilt hospital on Red Beach

     

    After the hills are stabilized and danger's past - Junketing congressmen

    The U.S.O and press appear - and the pleasure domes are closed

    Infections soar - Rum is poisoned and the economy caves in

    The huts are then given to the nuns who have them torn apart

    To roof both hospital and nunnery with corrugated sheets