Ruler of the Ragged

Conversed feet and muscle tees/the rulers’ anti-uniform uniforms

you as one of four local

rockets of the night

CLACK!CLACK!CLACK!CLACK!

the call to jettison those creaking joints

Most tempered on the line

before launch and well after fan flared

from everyboy to everyman

I was touched in that you

seemed to have no idea

 

Honored in my duty if

only to clear the avenues

Rewards of thunder

we, all youth and ragged

responded to the revolt

deft in those chords

acceleration from the front line

hundreds of feet in converse

 

From your Ring of Fire recruited

for Pistols and Pins – are you

still laughing at that now?

Then blown from these

dry docks stateside

over to adoration of

Tokyo’s own ragged

rebel young mania

We all claimed vindication

rightful or not

 

Out of my own arrogance

I command you now to

stop apologies to comrades

you left behind.

Active duty is over, boy

Most humble, Believe

this as honor without end.

[In memory of Steve Kaika. b. 02.11.55 d.06.12.12]