it were
      + I was a D-day                                    like more
                                                                         but now I had need divination
                                                                         black pot a cover me
                                                                         water likely caliber as rock

              soldier    point / at the future /  received with

                                the electric guys /   /or paper johns      spooky monkey paw
                          or limb  — a place that motion lacks          notes a ward   unburnt
                                                                                            glance to lambent steel

              drunken advance. . . .       tide coruscate. . . .   o'er the backs of coloured fish
                                     team            . . . crown all 24
              don't think I'd fall for that zero gizmo  now   /        boy bangs side of the  trench
                                       'specially now        that    I        know the   light strike on the
                                                 redoubt ahead                discover the matters hid inside
                                                      * soldier — y's mouth,  *
                                             contour exposed    a  gut        mines splish through little fingers

in one— three guns  a cross over my pap          to serve no perceptible worth
       apart from the invulnerability (of course) of skin made of same stuff as its ordinance
       and songs from behind a door. . . .when johnny came marching home  . . . .
       and songs from out the back of a landing craft — yanks
                          but flicker in the frame of their advance
                                               only  coming          creature of the beach stones
                                                                      carve/ /ed  / / glassine
                            priest                           to        basic               aspiration

                                                                 some other player  in darkness —
                                                                      blunder forward
                                                                 attack in the body of the waves

     thus I invaded      so attacked the cave         + ennobled
                                                                                        reckoned to my role
                                                    and fields green     left to guide my free hand, my bound hand
                                                         stars fell                          betwixt
                                                    the beach grass      to birds        small caterpillar shaped holes
                                          they fed on                        naked and flush on the heather
                                                black grouse holding out   —         suicide

I had the map
                             but wanker where did I park the tank
which way's home    + what happened next if I strike into  fields  out the back
                    not imagined                  I think
                reload or freeze               what'd would my ancestors do?
                                                                                                                 but  he's   conductor only
                                                                                                                    has no part of the battle

                                            the light is  swinging    /   + might come back
                                                                         my way/

a fig for your bullet proof vest         your tears
          by night it's raining   and     probably too late
I turned my nose towards Berlin  /     you can drink there   sleep    get good food
through sand estuary   land breaks   to river bed    cultivate gold low hills
                                                       stays or black
the gulls wheel + watch the glub glub of a machine gun boat

                    Ah dreams
                    news reports called me back to the engagement   —  god's harvest
                    got a dose of real knocks — i.e. my eye put out —
my bullets seemed to go in the slits of their tanks but then I'd an eye missing
what about 'soldier of the year'  picked up week before    last Sunday)
what about the photos they took of me in my kit,  raffish all
                       sent into a blacked out city                                   once more these

                 toe to toe with the hun / could see their young skins/ then it got nasty
jerry radioing in yetis / for the 2nd wave / how low
great apes   —   they grew from the walls /                          wage     goons     freaking cows
where did you get that stereo from monkey face  — well put it back — irregulars, damn

                 !our guy's are losing their helmets!
                ! our guy's is singing about the water's edge!

         + all this time hard lessons took  —
       of Greek mainly — the one language of nothing you wanted to say
      but if Greeks could really speak sense   and not just lamp in with silver bows /
 what might I really  get
        some ruins      —  a Greek body where from a marmalised building now
                   it's different                                  but I liked that one    so sound it

         souls come and go out to that single forge — in — out like an idle thumb
 souls of now   yet beat thinner thinner              beasts forests out     pushed a single drop
                                                                                                                             to heat

now to my head —  charms  — through gritted teeth
           I determined to help my friends
           Yosemite Sam     don't nip my fingers — stay warm
           God of the Flowers  — your skin falls away     colours in petals —  you're spring
                                      ginger whiskers flecked with snow     by day the clear yellow sun

   bullets    in the belly of the sea            o drollery  —  seen this
                     awed    I took my chance and ran
                        meanwhile. . .         up the lines I touched down mob handed
                                                           o'er the orchard wall duck whistle at hand
 Stalingrad was better than this — surely  — young lovers an old man up a tree —        listening
         listening  but never  fighting back   /       hour upon hour this went on
                                               murderous plebian

                       strange        that rest                    on    my invisibility
as            like a ghost I    lit between two camps       my invulnerability
           between triumphs        the battle's parameters
                            bends   upon it's self
                           creates excuse but also seems at ease
                                                                                             falls silent

in the radio room in
upon  nazi's  making tea
                                        or    calling in mechanical men      some fought a little
                           one played an accordion         polka. . .      I couldn't recognise. . .

one  — framed in the bunker door — cigarette lit