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
pictures
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
matters
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