I'll Come See You

Knock the slag off, with air piston jacked hammers.

Sitting on a crate opposite you
sitting on another,
printed in yellow block stencil
underneath, 98 mm high explosive x 75.

Underneath my ass 150 mm
aye pee
times thirty.  My feet dangling like our cigarette's
smoke mingling on a windless afternoon.

The front is 220 miles out
East as the crow flies.
We will have to refuel
over the mediterranean
and I am looking forward to seeing
how you do it.

Our conversation has already broken down
into objectives and way points with a little
bet mixed in to the after action report.

It is unfair
to where we land and to whom we mount against,
because they are not in on the game.

Us both waiting for the KA-CHUNK
of couplings leaving us in free fall
to where our bombardier's decided
we could do our best
against the populace.

A little cheers of coffee.
A little double check of flight suits.
Is the mic where it needs to be?
Trial fit the helmet again
after a quadruple check;
be sure the reticle is in line.
Double check my nail polish
before the glove comes on.
Smash shoulders and opposing tattoos,
before the top of the flight suit
is zipped on.

Finish the coffee, with pills in our mouths.
They will learn what we live for,
they will learn what is loud.

Our flights will be long.  I'll sleep inside the mech
along the way.  I don't know what happens to you
while we wait out the sandbox for play.
The thup thup thup thup thup thup
I can hear, because I never turn off
the audio input once I am strapped in.

For me, it is a very long long long grin
to watch you work.  Guilty. 

Watching, zone cleared against spear chuckers
who happened to have come into
a fushionable pile
and needed reckoning before
something terrible happened,
you break out a "grenade"
two tons strong and willing to-\
-/Christ, where is the pin?

Mech against mech.  Dust to dust.
Die another day.
Why can you not understand I do
feel the same?

Fire the shell in my mechanized palm
to fire it just that strong
and knock it four miles out
to change the time of day from moonlit to
high noon in a fire ball that could eat city blocks,
but she's in the air.  Fair.  But "what the f@#$?"

Overkill.........  underneath your left foot,
underneath your left pedal inside your cockpit and
underneath you left foot outside your cockpit
you are grinding human flesh into a paste.  And now is
the fucking time.
Do you remember being small?  I do.
You don't get conscripted by chance. 

You find detonators.  You stumble upon detonators.
Land mines   Mines.  I've never met a land mine like you.

I will know how to move forward
regardless after you.
Everyone talks big.  Yack, yack, yak yak yak, waaaan.

Cruiser.  Angry.  There was someone else here.  I will find them, sonavubitch.  Fail.  My fault.    Reset.

Reset. 

Reset.

Reset.

Clutch in.  Match revs. Time to the light.  Gas pedal.  Clutch out. 
Release brake.
Gas pedal down. 

Slowly.

Burnout.