waiting on my number

floundering in my late teens,
with long hair, and a solid
three years of community
college under my belt,
I pondered
the idea
of joining the navy

so that I wouldn't get drafted
into the army
and have to go to Vietnam
and kill be people.

I had nothing against them
yellow men, as Cassius Clay
once said.

the bell bottoms and snappy
white hats
somehow appealed to me.

join the navy, see the world.

being on a ship for months
on end
with a bunch of animal men,
well,
that didn't sit well with my
tender sensibilities.

no windows. are we there yet?

would I have to
get a tattoo
on my arm, saying mom,
or death, or
a skull and cross bones
with angel wings?

would I have to smoke and drink
and do whatever it is
that sailors do?

going wild on liberty looking
for dames
in the dockside bars.

I didn't see a future in the navy,
so I waited
with my fingers crossed
on the draft.

hoping that the war would end
before my number was called.

got lucky with that.