Found Poem #3

ON LEAVE BEFORE SAILING TO BELFAST
ABOARD THE QUEEN MARY

There was little to do in Wheeling,
West Virginia, on leave, early forties,
with Clyde, drinking. The girls, he said,
were in church, so they went,
and, too, for the snake handling,
sat on the oak pew, right up front.
The serpents were sluggish at first,
coming up from the basement,
spilled, all tangled, from an orange crate,
but when they warmed, they crawled.
Clyde was laughing, whooping,
praising the Lord, while Steve
watched the floor, the baby
on a green blanket. The preacher,
spitting damnation in a snake's sleepy face,
approached, veered toward Steve,
"Do you believe in Jesus, soldier?"
Steve leaned back in the pew,
"Yeah, fella, I believe in Jesus,
but I don't trust that snake,
and if you don't get the son-of-a-bitch out
of my face right now, I'm going to deck you."
Clyde sobered, grabbed his friend.
They went outside,
hoping girls would follow.

sk/86