Chucks
Jay Villanueva
A web belt that was issued in boot camp
digs its way into me. My green Alpha trousers fit
slightly too small. The past seventeen hours
have been challenging to say the least. Sweating
far too much in these wool pants to say
the most. I’ve never been in the service uniform
for longer than an inspection. I am very tired
of trying to keep this khaki shirt tucked properly
like the models in commercials—the posters
that entice young men like me. The stale taste
in my mouth, grease on my head remind me
I need a shower, and soundless sleep.
How bored am I
J. Villanueva
—after Willie Perdomo
So bored
That I wished god would call us all to our home.
So bored
That I would rather be back in country where anything
Goes and march for miles hoping the can on the side
Of the road wouldn’t be the last thing you saw
Before you or the pointman tripped an explosive.
So bored
That I’m day dreaming of Chesty and the mindless tasks
We have to do—and how he’d love to chew my command out.
So bored
That all I have left is to think about the last few weeks
And how I’ve been permanently soured—blinders fully removed.
So bored
That maybe I should just go AWOL—run to the hills
Bury myself in the cold earth and never be spoken of again.
Jay Villanueva is a Chicano writer/poet from deep south Texas. Currently, J. has words featured or forthcoming in Huizache, Taco Bell Quarterly, The Indianapolis Review, and more. His debut chapbook, Roadside Fruteria, was published in June 2022 (Bullshit Lit). He is currently an MFA Candidate and Graduate Assistant Instructor at the University of Texas-Rio Grande Valley. You can follow him on social media @jay_theaztec.
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