two beers

drinking two beers in Mombassa, Kenya.

drinking with friends.

a few enemies.

in the heat. 

in the jungle.

as baboons and brown-billed storks tilt their heads, we drink our two beers.

two sour African beers - i forget the name.

their soldiers are black as tar and wear wool bomber jackets.  

red-eyed and smoking in wet heat,

smiling.

carrying compact machine-guns with 30-round magazines. 

looking more like mercenaries than government men.

they are black alright, and so are their women.

black with closely cropped hair and hollow eyes. 

black and wearing Coca-Cola t-shirts. 

black and offering themselves to us.

for money

pleasure

an MRE

boots

a Leatherman Super-Tool.

i consider the offer, but respectfully decline.

AIDS is widespread here and i want none of that.

i'm a deployed US Marine and it's 2002. 

they've already flown the planes into the Towers.

my crotch is burning like Rome, 

so are my feet.

flies have begun to lay eggs in my skin and the baboons look angry.

i've got enough to worry about...