buy the war bonds to my body
buy tickets to the air raid of my soul
trenches on my wrists
fight the somme across my stomach
machine gun pock marks
bombs, my flesh shakes
no land,
only lines to cross
and three miles of blood and barbed wire marshes
protect the soldiers
but there are no defenses
the western front is failing
TO ARMS!
shells that are empty
(I am empty)
the skies
(my eyes)
lighting up with flares
there's only smoke left
up there
(clouds my mind)
we left our masks behind and now we'll all go blind
packed in here, piled in
like cattle
like corpses
where is the axis?
we've been in here three days.
is there still a sky?
we've been in here a hundred years.
are we all dead?
are we blast shadows on the wall?
the war is over
but the trenches are deep
(trenches are deep)
(trenches are deep)





