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Apr 2020
Flippety flippet jiminey cricket I lie on my billet
Take a strut, one sharp cut, cig on the fillet
I know that fellow there
I know his mother, with the wrench-size arm
Hushed kisses, good-bye, her flesh clipped my head
We swirled, more than mess-like
Reed roof glimmer overhead,
We landed together, head-to-head
My hands stranded, realizing nowhere to rest

To her now, I knew he would be short
Torn leggings and holed green hat
He came to me towering over
And I screamed to him, once and twice louder

Flippety Flippet, Jiminey Cricket, we’re in the same billet
But you ain’t who you think you are
Her son, our son died to the whirring birds
In our arms, Flippety Flippet, ice-cold, eyes-closed
Couldn’t tell the difference back then

He answered, unassuming,
     If I ain’t your son, whose am I?
You’re Jiminey Cricket’s! Flippety Flippet.
I don’t know who I am
And why my arms curl and head swirl
Less, how do I know about you?

Who –
Who, who, one more and you sound like an owl. Look –
I wanna know who lit the fire.

I lit a smoke, shake the cig to see who hadn’t smoke
Fire embers pop to the crack of my two-*** mouth

Why are you pulling two?
One for you, calling it the peace-smoke
To peace, two a-piece, can’t have peace with one

I remember him but never told him so
I lit the fire, and there was no whirring bird.
Just he and his brother - one minute off to the tee
His mother woke next morning,
said one would be given by the army

Flippety Flippet Jiminey Cricket, about time he knew the secret
Flippety Flippet Jiminey Cricket, his mother hid it
Not me, Jiminey, not you, Flippety,
The harder I scream.
About time to let loose, Flippety Flippet
          I had a twin, you know –
          Light me a fire won’t you?
I did; and it’s nothing that I’ll ever forget.
Written by
Benjamin Le
89
   Bogdan Dragos
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