Fields Of Desire And Madness

She bought me
A much needed drink
And said, you’re coming with me.

Where we going? I asked.
Does it matter?
No it don’t, I said.

My squad was kidnapping a terrorist in a little village beside a river in Afghanistan.
The government doesn’t like to use the word kidnap
And we weren’t sure he was a terrorist.

I put three in the chest of his bodyguard,
While we
Were falling back.

I realized
I liked jazz
While I took a piss
In the parking lot of an church
On Fourteenth Street and Washington
At two AM.
I heard a horn
And thought
That ain’t bad
But things couldn’t be much worse.
A train rolled by
Not too far away
The horn
Kept blowing.

I was looking for Dove,
She wasn't around,
A cop followed me to Thirty-Second Street.
I turned left,
He didn't.

I didn’t tell you where we were going because I didn’t want you to think less of me, she said, as we laid on her bed sharing our last cigarette.
It makes me like you better if anything, I said and dropped the butt in an empty bottle of cheap Vodka.

She pulled into a trailer park, come on, she said.
A tall skinny mean looking dude led us into his bedroom and we sat on his unmade bed while he made up a fifty - dollar bag.

Brown and I were
Smoking hash in a cave,
Watching rain
Find its way to a river,
Brown was looking at a picture
He took
Of a dead horse lying in a puddle of bloody water.

He said something to her,
I don’t remember what,
But it wasn’t nice
And that was my excuse
To hit him,
On the head,
With a rock
I picked up
In the
Parking lot.

If I knew you were going to do that I would have had you wait in the car, she said and laughed.

At sunset an old man stood beside a dilapidated shelter
With a silly grin on his face.
Would you look at this idiot, Brown said and handed me the picture.
I’ve already seen it.

We need smokes, I said and walked to a Circle K and bought us each a pack of cigarettes with the money I took out of the dealers wallet.
I gave her the smokes and the dope I took out of the dealer's closet and told her I had to be going.
I’ll drive you, she said.
I don’t mind walking, I said.
It’s raining.
It will do me some good.

I walked to a cheap motel and watched the final round of the British Open.

What is he grinning at? Brown asked.
You, you’re taking his picture.
Yeah but his horse is dead. What's funny about that?