(Sentinel) I can show you
The stain of mans ambition
In the excrement of trenches
In the stench of entrails
In the trembling hands
Of frightened pawns with guns
Frigid in their urine fortune
Of graves already dug
Where wounds would cease to fester
And life clung to corpses
This irrepressible
Pointless triumph
In the wreak of gangrene
In the bogs of sepsis
Life sought refuge
Amongst the bodies dead
Why is the engine of you
Comprised of toiling innocence
Wrung for the oils in your
Lamps, to grease your bayonets?
Flesh for fresh munitions
The trade seems ever in your favour
The mauve bruise limbs offer
Under sodden woollen sleeves
I can see the flutter cadence
Animate life amongst pinguid ribs
The yearn from chasmal sleep
Steeped in slurry pall
You hope to preserve
The tallow of you
Irrational lines
Demarcating
That which is worthy of living
That which is worthy of nothing
The chronology
Is never sacred
The vagrant drag
Is ever close
It will come
For your chalice empty
For the altar piece
Asking of you for everything
(Recipient)Your proboscis seeks nectar
Purulent leak of ages
The red of rust on shackles
In the bowels of sinless men
On the trail of tears
In the soiled blankets
You will find uncountable
Marks of the guilty
You cannot possibly know
The dark that resides in man
I promise you, I can
Appoint blame with accuracy
The wrongs of antiquity
It is apology you seek
The twine of binding atrocities?
The nod to our failings?
Pantheon of excuses
Patsy for the errant cough
We teach the young to splutter
To choke on our choices
You will open chests
Amongst organs the fat
Will cling and reminisce
Every stolen meal
It will fondly court
And savour each flavour
And smile without guilt
At the mouth it took it from