
“You’re packing quickly.”
She took a long drag and blew a diorama of the city skyline into his face, interrupting. He blinked and fanned away the swirling remainder.

“You’re packing quickly.”
She took a long drag and blew a diorama of the city skyline into his face, interrupting. He blinked and fanned away the swirling remainder.
Perhaps the one truly effective distillation of war has been succinctly expressed by General William T. Sherman in his statement “War is hell.” There are, possibly, no other ways to encapsulate the loss, moral complication and sense of brutality in so few words and with such accuracy. Social and historical critics who have hoped to provide alternative condensations are often left displaying their agendas; they become stuck in unsustainable positions of supposed insight, demonstrating the ease with which political writers can operate when safely distanced from the iron sights – and maybe more importantly, the targets on the other end.
Continue reading “Marching Through Exits: Keith Douglas and the Fated Estrangement of Self” »
Connoisseur of cute judgment: micro-authenticated
pedigree’s top-floor teeth in throat.
The dizzy mutt retreats, slowing motion:
its pivotal grin at the cracking footfall;
ears perk for the snared mistake
chewed free from boutique ego.
bang into the starting line like it’s the ribbon,
confused collapsed gasp, rounding the corner,
into your ribs, hard leverage, splendid collision
sticky knees stand up to destinations before
right here