it clots sticky in the mouth
froths issues
here let me wipe out
it’s in the tissue
ugh with it e u
and gagging om
they don’t half-mean anything
when they die they’re gone
blue wings thrown wide
under the weight of the sky
the eagle floats over the forest
undulating in the air like a plaice
divested of alphabet
*
on the twenty-second of june
at four o’clock on the dot
I won’t be listening to anything
I’ll have my eyes shut
I’ll bury the foreign broadcast
It’s the news but I won’t lift a hand
If anyone comes I’m out of the loop
I’m a sparrow I’m no man’s land
*
the home fires are burning low
be still my heart beat slow
don’t spend the kerosene douse the fire
it won’t end as I desire
strongly it bears us along in swelling and limitless billows
a hundred young warriors scrambling to form the watch
the warrior’s raven-black horse returns without its rider
the dark cloud was without silver lining
the song snatched
from the river the bayonets glittered
glimpses of white sleeve
volunteer walking at volunteer
cigarette in the death-grip of teeth
human waves
drum bangs
machine gun strafes
camera pans
birds singing in the sycamore tree
major petrov fucks major deyev
in the coarse pockets of ploughed soil
*
that night
over the field of battle
the nachtigall tells the nachtigall
nightingasps in disbelief
and in neighbouring places
bird tells bird passing
from beak to beak like a dead frog
the exact science:
earth’s caesura
between the stains of the sighted
between one mottled zone of streetlights
warmed by proximate life
and its answering beam
the sightlessness of moss on boughs
anxious flight
armoured vehicles
lenses
aimed at movement
*
no difference between first and second
patriotic or patriotic
great or pacific
atlantic
world
all the same they fall
to the only the civil
where sunrise quivers in the cinders
draws out the spear-tips
mate eh mate
giss a light
says the dead to the dead
says the killed to the killer
*
the flower dies under a skin of glass
mouth blackens stumps trickly crust
earth takes the dead she keeps them
and brings them up when she must
the sensible animals hold court
the witness box is a transparent lung
dark and trickled the way is damp
the bitch suckles her young
the judge lifts its eyes from the bench
to daylight’s low-hung bulb
holds up wanted posters
and asks the jury if I am absolved
barely pausing their talk
yesterday’s brothers emerge from the copse
in charred pelts, mud-crusted
get up on the cart, whip on the horse
to where the meadow holds an awning,
pins a path of stinging plants and thorns
the way back is belted down
even hope is stillborn
how to justify this? on the greedy tongue
milk writes in curds,
and paper is marked by tree rings
traces of axe a fool’s words
magna imago
*
the acacia has long blossomed
the army is long gone
melodeclamation
has spread its wings and flown
ride a cock horse
to wherever the cross
and rip out the stuffing
and give it a toss
and freedom needs stripping
stay standing, lads, as long as you can
bust the joint, smash the game
one of our gang will crouch in a hole
wherever we are, and swig champagne
gypsies – dead
hussars – defunct
dusk now falls
colour shrunk
pitter patter
across the heart
sputter spatter
on the tablecloth
voices raised in lament
which once were full of joy
*
who is that riding on to red square
towards st basil’s cathedral
countries rejoice cities jubilant
across my territory
begins two minutes history
vixens bark at the crimson shields
mosquitoes’ drone
drowns out the pealing of bells
russian hares
in all the polling stations
the country has spoken
and then the midges
tearing themselves from flesh
rotate tactically overhead
who wouldn’t want to be drinking the quiet don from grandfather’s
wooden cup, going back in time, rub your eyes
put kebabs on the fire
reclaim those words sprinkle them on
soup
sprinkle earth
*
Vlas the volunteer, a fortnight dead
forgot the ruble rate, and what the sparrows said
and where he was from.
A current of explosive air
held his bones in embrace. As he flew
the years passed from him, chubby-cheeked
babbling.
Russky or Ukrainian,
o you, whoever you are, in this neglected crossing place,
consider Vlas. Vlas was nicer than you.
*
we no ger man we no ger man on our off spring down grew no man we not be come we no ger man rage blood no fish we fish now dumb fish we can do deal with no thing we no skull we no house bird no cherry tree we no we you we no we we in the myrtle grove I sleep and see be yond be hind spoke n word rush an bear mel o dies we no a not straightaway