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"A ball turret was a plexiglass sphere set into the belly of a B17 or B24 bomber and inhabited by two .50 caliber machineguns and one man, a short, small man. When this gunner tracked with his machineguns a fighter attacking his bomber from below, he revolved the turret; hunched upsidedown in his little sphere, he looked like the foetus in the womb. The fighters which attacked him were armed with canon firing explosive shells. The hose was a steam hose." (Jarrell's notes)
The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner
by Randall Jarrell
First Rave
By Mike and Liz
I walk in walk in and gasp in delight gasp in shock bright, colorful, pulsating lights surround me piercing lights bombard my vision, blind me music, hypnotic, swallows my senses, draws me toward its source insane pounding in my headI want to scream the beat is unstoppable; it rips through the crowd to mea personal invitation to join this party noise without a purpose grates on my fragile nerves, neverending the dancers make room for one more in their midst, their vibes engulf my insecurities and I let go wishing to disappear, I find a wall to lean on and shut my eyes against the insanity surrounding me bodies rock to the allpowerful music, we are bound together the crowd melts together, blurry and pricked with light as tears fill my eyes I don’t want this night to end, but the morning brightens my body and mind are numb from crouching and the perpetual beat of screaming music music gradually fades, we slow our dancing glassy eyed dancers stumble to the doorhalf deaf and sweaty still full of the energy I’ve received, I hardly notice the friend I’d come with crouched miserably in a corner I glance up to find my deserter staring vacantly down at me with a huge grin sticking out a hand to help I pull my friend up and walk out I’m so tired, I can barely stumble after I loved it hated it
