Louis all mad at the Yemenis
Louis is all mad at the Yemenis now for some reason. He thinks... who
the hell knows what he thinks. He glares at us from over his beer. Brian
is leaning on the bar thinking about himself. Various objects reflect
him, he is at the center of their spectacle. A haze of signs and meanings
he moves through like a ray of light playing over facets. He isn't impressed
with Louis. But he doesn't want to get on Louis' bad side, as the Yemenis
appear to have done today. So silence again and back to CNN on the TV
above the bar. Me I am working on this newspoem using words from the
Times crossword but I can't finish the crossword. I have a guess about
42 across and it's a word I really want to use in my poem and I hope,
I hope, that I am right but everything is not exactly falling into place,
shall we say, with the Times Crossword Poetry Project. Well we know
Louis is upset now, at the fucking Yemenis, at fucking Arafat, always
Arafat, the fucking Palestinians, bomb Iraq? Louis is refreshingly enthusiastic
about the prospect. Hell yeah, let's bomb Iraq and any other country
ending in Q. Nothing like the gridlock of a divided legislature, Louis
is unequivocal. Bomb, what the hell, Libya too. Definitely Yemen, don't
ever turn your back on Yemen, not even for a second. And then the story
comes back and it is about a ship from North Korea bound for Yemen,
no markings, carrying scud missiles. The CNN footage shows the scud
missiles beneath sacks of cement. Louis gasps, is rigid. They look more
like toboggans than fireworks. It's hard to see how they can fly. Louis
pounds the bar as if those Scuds were destined to head up the Ohio river,
straight up the Ohio river, to Cinti, where maybe a bunch of fucking
Yemenis would move in next door, free country, and set up their fucking
scuds in their backyard pointing at Louis' window. Boarding a ship in
international waters is generally considered piracy, I say. You see:
the ship was bound for Yemen, fully legal purchase. Fucking A right
board a ship in international waters Louis says, unequivocal, beyond
equivocation, piracy my ass. If some fucking Yemeni is in the back seat
of your car with a gun to your head and the police come in through the
door to get him is that piracy? I open my mouth to answer. Is that piracy?
Louis seems ready to throw something, to break something, to smash through
the wall and just fucking go kick Arafat's ass himself. Is he drunk?
Louis is never more drunk than me, I remember, or is it more drunk than
I? I don't remember. Now there is commentary. It appears the US knew
the ship was bound for Yemen, knew of the missiles, and had seized it
as a pretext to launch a "preemptive" war against Iraq, but
the Yemeni's backed out of their end of the deal and claimed the ship
and so the US had to let the ship go. Let it go? Let it go? Louis is
really upset. There goes the ship, off across the ocean en route to
Ohio. Let it go. I can't reason with Louis. Brian has finished my crossword
puzzle and has wandered off to the mens room to fix his hair, he always
fixes his hair, guys like Louis never fix their hair. Let the Yemenis
fix their fucking hair, Louis might say, I ain't got all day.
Louis, man, I'm just not worried about the Yemenis. Or the North Koreans.
his unblinking eyes as wide as the hole in national security I represent,
and opens his mouth. Louis is going to go ahead and tell me what he
thinks of that. We're about to start arguing about United Nations Security
Council Resolutions again. Time to change the channel.
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