Nor is it about deeds, or lands, nor anything about glory, honour, might, majesty, dominion, or power, except War. Above all I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of...
No. 73 September 2005 FUTILITY Move him into the sun – Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of fields unsown. Always it woke him, even in France, Until this morning and this...
