Mike Quinn had a snapshot that hit the back of the net
from 50 feet out in the blink of an eye.
The big fella didn't get to die upon the Sands of Iwo Jima
some noble last words upon his lips.
He was blown to smithereens
somewhere outside Da Nang
by a rocket manufactured in Kiev
brought in by sea from Vladivostok
and lugged down the Ho Chi Minh trail
lashed to a bicycle seat.
They buried what was left of him on a gray day in Charlestown
The Marine honor guard in their dress blue uniforms
white hats and gloves
folded the American flag that draped his coffin
into a neat triangle
and handed it to his mother for her trouble.
Four years too late
they mined Haiphong harbor.
