Equatorial Crossing 17 October 1972

by Mushroom Montoya

Unlocking the dogs, opening the hatch,

Hurry, hurry, I must be on my way,

I ran in my flip flops down the passageway,

In my effort to catch the morning light.

Last night's dream, of that the old Northwest Indian,

Who kept the sun hidden from the ancient Raven,

Cackled and taunted a sinister warning,

Of the treachery on the way to the tunnel.

 

I must be brave enough, to run fast enough, 

Over the bilge, passed the boiler,

Through the next watertight compartment, 

Sliding with my hands down the rails,

 

My feet barely skimming above each rung, 

Before kerplunking on the deck, 

And running to the repair locker, 

Only to find him with both hands,

 

Trying to containing his brains 

From falling out of his hangover, 

“Snap to, get up, get into your skivvies,

Our required uniform of the day.” 

I need to get him out out of this windowless cage, 

He had asked me to hide him in, the night before,

Where spanner wrenches, sump pumps, 

Fire hoses, and 6 foot long pry bars are stored.

 

Today is the day that we must show our grit

To endure what we must, to show we can take it.”

Even if we are only swiney, whiney pollywogs.

I grab his hand and help him up.

 

We run up the ladder, turn the dogs, 

Open the hatch and climb out, scurrying

Into the mess decks for a breakfast of slosh,

Shit on a shingle, and green eggs and ham.

Bleep, bleep, Attention! Attention!

The shellbacks are screaming crazy commands,

“Choke it down, You’ve got to go, 

You slimy, smelly, sweaty pollywogs.

Get your asses up and at ‘em

Get to King Neptune to be judged

And sentenced for your crime.

Beg for mercy, you pussy piles of shit!

Bow down, low in supplication,

To kiss the toe of Neptune’s drag queen.

Smile wide and look real pretty

Before you kiss their greasy baby’s belly.

Don’t forget to stop at the dentist

He’ll open your mouth, check it twice

No, we never said he would be nice.

He’ll toss in a raw oyster and squirt in Tabasco. 

You mustn’t lose it, oh hell no!

Or back to the beginning you'll go.”

They’ll beat us with shalalies,

Made from worn out scratchy fire hoses, 

Who cried so often that now

They are only good for whipping

 

Pollywogs who move too slow 

As if slogging through thick snow

When we all know 

The sun is playing hide and seek.

We run the gamut, being hosed and whacked

Till we reach the ladder that tunnels down

Into a stinky, smelly, foul, skinny town, 

Filled with bilge sludge, monkey grease, and coffee grounds.

The shellbacks waste not time,

Whacking our nearly naked butts. 

They smack us sliding down the tunnel

Into the gooey, sewage of muck.

“What are you now? Still a pussy pollywog?!

Tell me, as you bathe and twist 

In this trough of piss and shit, 

What are you now after crossing the equator?”

I spit out the oyster, wipe the gunk off my face.

I stand up in a timid defiance.

“Is this the end? Are we done?

Am I finally a Shellback now?”

“Yes, you are! You god damned prick!

Get out! Go wash your precious dick.

Don’t just stand there in that sludge.

Tell me who you are. and say it loud,

“I’m a shellback, Navy proud!”

We got washed off with fires hoses

Cleaning away the slop from our noses

Washing away the polliwog disgrace

And putting a smile on every sailor's face.

Knowing that we were now a crew

Of victorious mighty Shellbacks,

Feasting on lobster, chomping on steak,

We've crossed the equator, for goodness sake!

Bright Yellow Egg Yolks

 Bright Yellow Egg Yolks

By Mushroom Montoya

He, the me that really knew,

Pulled my shoulders up and back,

Lifted my chin just enough 

To look proper and prim,

 

With highly polished shoes,

A uniform of lintless Navy dress blues,

To be more than ready 

For the morning inspection.

 

I stood at attention

Remembering Mrs. Johnson,

My favorite teacher of all time,

Lining us, second graders,

Side by side,

Choosing one of us each day

To be the inspector of 

Our bodies, 

And our clothes,

 

Making sure we were clean

From our head to our toes.

And giving us a gold star 

Or a yellow dot 

If we passed muster.

And here I stood, 

Looking so darn handsome,

In my lintless Navy dress blues,

Waiting for the Chief to get to me,

To inspect my face, my eyes, and ears,

To see his reflection 

In my highly polished shoes

That I had spent the night before

Spit shining with Kiwi shoe polish 

And my own real sweat and spit.

While the Navy Chief was still

Three or four or maybe even five

Sailors away from me,

He, the me that really knows,

Told me a joke

About a bright yellow egg yolk,

Who hung around with no folk,

All by himself in his tiny round room 

That no doors and no windows.

He prayed for friends.

He prayed for freedom

To break free 

From his isolation.

His prayers were answered

With a crack to his shell.

He landed next to a friend

In a sizzling frying pan.

And then I started to laugh.

And the closer the chief got to me,

The more obvious it was to see,

My laughing was going to get me

In trouble.

So, when the chief arrived,

Staring into my eyes,

With a big mean frown,

Asking, “What’s so damn funny?”

All I could think about

Was the bright yellow egg yolk

Stuck in his shell

With no way to get out.

Struggle as I might,

I just couldn’t stop,

Except to say, 

“I’m just in a good mood, Sir.”

While thinking in my head,

This is really stupid,

Having a grown man,

Inspecting me,

another grown man,

As if I were a second grader,

To see if I am clean enough

To earn a gold star, 

Or just a yellow dot.

After inspection,

I wondered if I would get

Fresh fried eggs

With bright yellow egg yolks

For breakfast.

Skinny Dipping Off Grande Island

I stripped off my Navy uniform,

Shredding away 

The Viet Nam war,

 

And went skinny dipping 

In the warm salty water 

Around Grande Island 

In the middle of Subic Bay. 

 

My buddies laughed and took pictures

And found they couldn’t resist

Getting naked and jumping in.

 

We filled the air with laugher

Splashing in the water

Forgetting about the war.

 

We climbed up to golf tee number 7

Sitting together as friends,

Smoking some weed, 

On this tiny Philippine Island,

Looking west in the evening

Watching the clouds battle

With kabooms of lighting 

That exploded into flower petals

 

Of childhood dreams 

Of what we wanted to be

When we grew up.

 

All the while we sat munching 

On M&M Chocolate covered peanuts

That threw a party on our tongues

And helped us pretend

That we were not at war. 

  

Too Close To the Viet Nam Shore

Viet Nam Dead ahead.

Starboard turn, 90 degrees.

We fall in line taking our place

on the Tonkin Gulf gun line.

Guns blasting from ships ahead.

Gunsmoke fogs the view, 

Stretching long my very first hour, 

Standing my first battle station watch.

Watching our ship sailing too close

To the Viet Nam shore.

Oh! Look how beautiful it is 

Over there.

But

Bombs are blasting on the beach. 

Three boys running on the sand,

Until our five-inch gun guns them down.

Three boys' bodies splatter across the ground

Bleeding their deaths

Before my eyes,

Sucking out my sanity,

While the Captain's vanity 

Soars.

Scoring us a shiny killer's badge.

How can grown men be so blind

That they pay no mind

To the bare-naked fact

That children are dying at their hands?

Why can't they understand

We are really just killing each other;

"Those people" are our sister and brother.

Their parents, our father and mother.

When will we evolve

And learn how to solve

Our complications with discussions

Instead of hurling percussion grenades?

Our eyes need to open

To the much bigger problems 

Confronting all of us

For our continued existence.

Stranger in the Mirror

I wore my beard proudly

When I was in the Navy

So many years ago

In my Navy Dress Blues.

‘Tis a shock to look and see

A new reflection,

A derailed deflection,

A possible rejection,

Of the me I saw

Just moments ago,

Staring into the mirror

At a face so familiar

Before the arrival,

To end the survival,

To kill an abundance of curls and swirls,

To massacre ten years of grooming,

By using a blade for brooming

Away the accustomed, habituated,

Acclimated, well adjusted,

Ordinary of my face.

To whack away,

Shave away,

Banish ten years of bearded

Facial familiarity.

‘Tis a shock to look and see

A stranger staring back at me

In the mirror wondering

How could it be

That I don’t recognize the being

Reflecting the image before me?

Who is it that wonders,

Ponders, and conjures

Questions, interrogations,

Examinations and asks,

Who am I

Now, today?

Who is different from yesterday,

And just a few moments ago?

Isn’t that how life is anyway

We throw away

The we we were

Each and every night

Only to recreate, replicate

A clone

Who won’t make us feel alone

Like we know all too well

We have always been.

Or have we

Just been

Searching for that other?

Returning to our mothers

Or our fathers

Or our former shipmates

Who won’t make us wonder

If we really are all alone.

Smokestack

I was broken, like a pony,

My wildness tamed before it had a chance

To dance naked in the sprinkler.

Behave! What will people think?

Don't embarrass the family.

They'll arrest you and let your white friends go.

Don't be a pendejo. Cuidado!

War raged in Asia.

My uncle and cousin fought in Viet Nam

My cousin came home

In a body bag.

Communists were taking over the world.

I had my duty to keep America safe

From Communists.

Why didn't they teach us communism in school?

They taught us the weaknesses and

Strengths of our opponent's football teams.

My wildness perked its head out of my parent's corral

When I joined the Navy.

I was proud to serve my country.

Until, until, until,

Body parts flying, bombs blasting, and guns killing,

Twisted my hidden wildness so tight

It shattered.

It spewed in screams

All over the deck,

All around the ship's center smokestack.

Every evening, we pulled away from the task of killing

To replenish our depleting supply of death,

Of screeching, piercing, 75 pound bombs.

When the ship's belly was full,

I exploded in a full run to nowhere,

Around and around the smokestack,

Screaming my sanity back.

Screaming out my horror,

Frantically wanting to scream

The broken, bloody bodies back to life.

Desperately wanting to scream

My own body back

Home to sanity.

She stood on the shore

In her shimmering green ao dai

And pointed straw hat, holding out her hand.

Come back, 1972 is only a memory.

Come with me into the ocean, into the jungle

Of your mild, wildness.

I stared at the shore as I fell on my knees.

Exhausted, I leaned against the smoke stack,

Catching my breath,

Inhaling diesel and death,

Mixed with salt air.

“Did you see that guy

Screaming around the smokestack?

He's wild and crazy!” the new ensign yelled,

Pointing his own shaking finger at me.

The lieutenant shook his head,

“He's the only sane person

On this ship.”

Viet Nam Sunrise Visitation

That is our bed, see the keys?

He places two sets,

One by each pillow on his orange fitted sheet.

And then points to the door.

I walk down the hall,

Down a few steps,

And step back up as the water rushes in,

Up to my ankles.

Alarms are blasting from the ship's speakers!

I run to the repair locker.

It's locked!

I reach into my pocket for the keys,

But only feel the smoothness of my own skin.

A hand grabs my shoulder in the dark.

An Irish Mist voice whispers,

"Don'tcha fall on the slippery deck.

The sea fairies be waving to us, See?"

I look over the side;

They laugh and giggle,

As they glide and slide on the ship's wake,

Glowing their phosphorescent greenish blues.

I jump when octopus wraps

His tentacles around my stomach.

He turns me and she is there,

Wearing only her pointed straw hat.

Her nipples are dark on her small breast.

She takes my hand and leads me into the water. The blue damsel fish are all around us,

Sliding against our flesh.

Ship's alarm whispers in the distance.

She pulls me close and places her soft lips onto mine.

The blue damsels shimmer in my eyes.

The alarm buzzes. The damsels evaporate.

The sun shines on my face.

She rolls over, kisses my lips.

"Good morning, Sweetheart

What do you want for breakfast?"