Out of the blood-red streets of Harlem,
Home of junkie, pimp and whore
A child was born, a special child
Benbow was the name he bore.


A special child but lightly touches
down upon the ground
But, like the bluebird, seems more of sky than earth.
The cruelty of Harlem made you
fly but higher,
Singing of the brotherhood of man.


Some said you were slow
But your mother knew your heart felt
so much more
Than your mind would ever know


When you were old enough to kill
the army took you
Out of Harlem, out of the world
To a hellish land called Vietnam


To us, your friends the medics,
the body baggers, the meat sorters
And we were all insane.


For we yet lived in our proud young flesh
And wallowed in the sinfullness,
the wretchedness
Of wholeness and wellness
As the dead and dying assaulted us,
damned us


Why do you yet live?
Why are you there and we here?
You want to help me?
Take my place!


Our perfect bodies held inside
A wretched cringing, rotting soul
And we could not fight them
And we could but love them
And hold their hands as they died.


And forever live inside a life
we did not own
Holding ghosts we could not let go
Lest we forget!


Lest we forget, Benbow
You were our clerk
You sang joyously, mindlessly,
crazily
But we were all insane


We called you Bluebird, Mister Soul
At times you took us far away
Gave us innocence for a while
And we forgot our bloody hands
Our brain-specked boots
But you couldn't sing very well.


Then one day the sergeant came
Too many field medics had been killed
Some of us would have to go
They sent you, the clerk, the dummy?


A month went by
We got your men that died of little wounds


Then one day you came to us,
Fell to the ground and cried
Broken Destroyed


You begged us please to teach you how
To stop up the holes We tried. We tried.
But you just cried
Your mind was just too small


Later we found you in a hole
Morphines lay empty on the ground
My mouth to yours, I tried to breathe!
But you were stiff and still and small


Your cousin came, he cried like
a little boy
What would he tell your mother?


Fourteen years have passed
I could not think till now
Of how you died to save your brothers
I wish your mother knew.