BOOK II , Canto 7, intro, i. ii. iii.

intro.
On his return to Soldiering
In Fair Camp David Land
A birthday bash; a 4th July
And Death reigns near at hand
“Beats Grass”
i. "A psychedelic triptamine. Beats grass,"
Our Hero 'splain'd to Kidwell out on guard.
"It's purple powdr'd sugar; think I'll pass."
"You worried 'bout The Beaver, June and Ward?"
The Doc chim'd in, his head already charr'd,
"It is whatever you want it to be.
'Tis shrapnel for your brain. Tonite you're starr'd
In psylocybin movies. Dent hurt me."
But Mushroom was to blind Kidwell, not let him see.
ii. Facilitating flights of fancy, he
Had brought back balsa airplanes for the boys.
For simple joys of boyhood, all agree
That play makes young; and who dies with most toys
The Afterlife with fun and Mirth employs.
Hence frolicking on hoochtop, in the yard
Each child too soon his Little Wing destroys.
To paraphrase the Bible and the Bard:
"The thoughts of youth are long"; "Transgressors' ways are hard."
Little Wing

The Yard
” … Long, Long Thoughts … “
Hoochtop

II, 6, viii.

They heard "WHO'S NEXT" with Roger Daltrey's wail;
Laurindo Almieda's guitar strings;
Walk'd Wiliwilinui's hiking trail;
At Ni'uanu Pali stretch'd their wings;
At Banzai Pipeline earn'd their bodies' stings;
At Hanauma snorkl'd for a day;
At Wiamea Bay bikinis' things;
And scor'd before our Hero flew away
A bag of mushroom dust. Or so it look'd that way.
Magick
Honolulu Lulu
“Rolling Stone” Album of the Year

II, 6, v. vi. vii.

v. His pass in hand, on Guam he spent his day
His thumb out, taking in the island sights,
Until a native nurse drove past. His ways
With women just restor'd, by rights
He should have had her islander's delights -
But she was on her way to work, not bed:
Her gloss-black hair; her nut-brown arms; insights;
Eyes dark and fathomless, lips parted, red;
His Beaugainvillea; his "Puti Nai Nobiu"!

Chamorro Guamanian Nurses
vi. She simply dropp'd him off, and that was that.
But, so it was, a verdant island shrine
Call'd "Cinema" toss'd out her welcome mat.
He check'd dear Gramma's watch; "This one is mine!
Jane 'Barbarella' Fonda's flick is fine!
With Donald Sutherland? the dude can ACT!
I got the bread. There ain't even a line!"
Her movie, "Klute" had just come out. (In fact,
That was the year before her "Hanoi Jane" attacked.)

“Klute”
vii. That thriller left our Kid in disarray.
He hitchhiked back and caught the jet that night,
Set down in Honolulu the next day.
Old "Harrison" had figured out his plight
And fetch'd him up."Hey, Bro'; ain't you a sight!"
Suitcase restor'd, they two again had jell'd
As Cannabis set two Who's 'kids alright'.
For one whole week the stinking war was held
At bay in clouded bliss. How sweet the island smell'd!
Island Smells

Book II, Canto 6, ii. iii. iv.

ii. So, who but Schnozz would kick off his sojourn?
Who steer'd the Kid to tarmac? just his kind
Of guy. Said, ston'd, "Before ye do adjourn
'Tis best we by the byway do unwind
So's that yon dawgs no evidence will find
To rob ye of yer paradise. These toys
You use to blow yer dope up to yer mind?
They better stay with me. I'll let the boys
At Number Seven know you didn't make no noise."
Schnozz Saves the Day
iii. Thus frustrated in travel plans to spread
His cheer to Honolulu, "Let's be fair,"
(Our Hero to the Schnozz) "My favorite head!
I got this bag o'weed; we'd better share.
I'll tell you how it is away up there
At thirty thousand feet when I return."
Schnozz found his quiet spot to toke, and there
Fyr'd up a pipe the nickel bag to burn.
"Sweet smell: it's on my clothes!" O would he ever learn?
Toker
iv. Aboard the jet (of course he'd pass'd his test - 
Turn's out the dude inspecting was a bud'!)
A Gentle Soul fell into dreamless rest,
Awoke in Guam, curl'd up in sunshine flood
Under a nurs'ry crib, all Elmer Fudd.
Some way, somehow, the jet had stopp'd for gas;
The Kid deplane'd,the substance in his blood
Had cook'd him down, depriv'd him of his sass.
The airport guys, amaz'd, gave him a one-day pass!
30,000 ft.

Bk II, Canto 6, Intro, i.

Intro

Our Soldier-hero passing fair
Flies to the fiftieth state;
This short song sings his escapades,
His folly and his fate.
i. And so our Gentle Soul was bound away.
He'd written to his Frat-bro of his trip.
To which that Beatle-George clone had to say,
"You're welcome here! Come on! Come all! I'm hip!"
But first, the stop no outbound one could skip
Awaited at the airport of DaNang:
His own MPs, who didn't give a flip
That Grundy was of Bunker Seven's gang
Would sniff him out with dogs. He'd best dry out - or hang!
Sniff Him Out!
Flip Giver

Bk. II, Canto 5, xxvii.

It might have been the Captain - maybe Top -
Discerning that mere heaping up of praise
For jobs "well done!" had little done to stop
Our falling star from vanishing in haze,
Determin'd, "Our Boy needs a '7-Days' -
A leave from Vietnam." Thus, orders cut:
Hawaiian Islands! "Safe from those who prey
Upon our precious mail clerk!" Great! And! But!
About his frat'bro' there? our clerk kept his mouth shut ...

Bk II, Canto 5, xxiii. xxiv. xxv. xxvi.

xxiii. Old John had join'd the ranks of soldiers more
Attun'd to staying home and in at night.
He'd otherwise 'wake busted, bruis'd and sore.
Dear Ethyl, who he never could requite
Mocking him and giggling out of spite
When Walker, Daniels, jugg'd him out of hand
He'd switch'd to Budweiser (sad; not too bright).
His 20 years soon gone, he'd make a stand.
It's not like Old John could just choose the Sober brand!
Not Too Bright
xxiv. Once, in a stupor, John show'd Kid a long,
Red scar that from his breastbone ran a course
Straight down into his Ripstop Poplin. "Wrong
Was I to douse myself without remorse!
So dumb was I to think that I could just force
A fellow soldier like that fat, cag'd bird
Who'd been decoy'd unto his doom, perforce
Into my room when my two words were heard:
'Free Beer!' you drink with me? I'll never say a word."

Never A Word
xxv. Our Hero ponder'd his own alcohol
Abuses, which had caus'd his folks such stress.
Nor could he once foresee, nor could forestall
The college life when, under "pledge" duress
While seeking new frat brothers to impress
Them with his Tolerance (some nights he'd lain
Unconscious in the head), or else confess
To fair co-eds he'd dated but in vain,
With vomit on his breath, "I'm sorry for your pain."
Pledge Duress
Her Pain
xxvi. You guess'd it! Far from pining for a brew,
Up to the Belly Bar, Boy! every night!
With Bunker Seven's dope-besotted crew
He'd parley, party, looking for a height,
All heedless of his self-inflicted plight.
He'd snort a cap o' Skag with Brother Cook;
Trade platitudes like "Dude, like, outta site!"
Then puke Her out his nose, until it took
The Angler of Ennui no time to set His hook.
The Belly Bar
Bunker 7 Snorts

“G.I.s shifted their drug use to heroin, which was odorless and thus harder to detect. Heroin started flowing more freely into Vietnam from Cambodia in 1970, a consequence of that nation’s civil war. According to a Pentagon study, by 1973 up to 20 percent of soldiers were habitual heroin users.” https://www.history.com/news/drug-use-in-vietnam