River of My Longing

H2-uh-oh!!
The Scatterbrained recruit,
weary from lack of sleep
arrived at the Parris Island
Marine Corps Depot
blurry eyed and very thirsty.
He was quickly 

caught up in the scramble
of 40 other recruits
fleeing the greyhound
as a scathing voice
drilled instructions
in loud decibels of scorn
never before heard
with such disdain.
Once assembled in a straight line
inside the receiving quarters
each was scrutinized
as if they were toxic germs,

maggots on dog feces,

iliterate scrotums one and all,
each ordered to stand there
for what seemed hours.


But this recruits

dry, parched tongue
bid his sleep-heavy eyes to fall on
the gleaming chrome
of a drinking fountain
just a few feet away.


His dehydrated flesh

became a bit of a scuttlebutt
as he scampered to

the chilled temptation
and took a cool drink.


It was a scandalous act
of direct disobedience,
and he was promptly
thrown to the floor and
verbally blasted for his
indiscretion committed.

 

He was promptly labeled
a scoundrel too weak
to be a marine and so
to develop some
necessary strength
he was ordered to
give the D.I.'s 50 push-ups
every time  someone took a drink
from that fountain
for the rest of the night.


And oh, how those

scheming drill instructors
wet their whistles
into the wee hours
of his mourn.


I know of this story
all too well,
for I was that recruit,
enjoying my first night
in boot camp

Let Me Turn You On

Biz Markie