Jake Milo (in memorium)

The blokes that fight the fires work long and grueling days
and nights. It's no surprise that some drink booze when on their break.
My grandpa shared his jug with other guys who'd fought the blaze,
and soon, a weary band of bleary drunks were eating steak

and taters around the fire. Chatter, jokes and laughter rang
'til most of them passed out. Grampa said, "at 3 am,
I woke up sick, with stomach churnin'. I knew that, that dang
dark rum was one five one, but thought I 'd curb its mayhem.

They say I was so sozzled that I dropped my pants and howled.
This, I don't recall, but sure as hell I was sloshed blind.
On Top of that, I'd eaten so much steak, my sphincter growled.
I felt the need to heave, so I rolled right only to find

some guy sleeping in his bag. I turned my head the other way
and barfed just like a bear and then passed out. I woke again
to shouting and commotion, and I heard some mad guy say,
" He puked in my fartsack, the son of a bitch. I went to drain

the snake, when I got back, I crawled back in to slide
on a chunky and stinking river of slime. It had to be him,
who else?" Several guys were swearing and Lord, how I tried
to look asleep. Morning came and someone said, "Hey Jim,

the asshole is awake." Jim snarled at me, " After that stunt you did,
you better not be here, when I come back. I'd kill you now except
the captain called." I ain't no chicken, but I done as he bid,
so I switched teams to double down he'd keep that vow unkept."

To be sure, no one ever knew just what was going on
within my grandpa's head. A hell-cat yes, but given
to kind and generous ways with kids and dogs. He's gone
beyond this world, but I'm sure he's raising hell in Heaven.