war
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and the sound of a drum. It’s March 1, 2026and somewhere in a desertan oil field away, we marchwith tiny dronesand lizards with legs that roll on steel wheels and trackslaid as they move.Rommel was a Fox.Bush was not a burning one.But this trumps them all—for now,until it doesn’t and we leavewith destruction behind.Say it…
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In war, you wear two faces—casualty, survivor. In peace, only one remains, and it weighs heavier. Pain drifts in—neither enemy nor friend,a shadow castby the flickering lamp of existence. A war without armies,fought in silence,where each breath is deathand resurrection. The lungs whisper, why?No answer comes. Eyes in the dark—promising nothing,searching endlesslyfor the fracture that…
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Field PostcardFrance, 17 October 1917POSTMARK: 21st Battalion, Ypres SalientCENSORED: PASSED BY A.E.F. FIELD CENSOR 143 L— We go over at dawn. Our trenches hold like promises made in fear, shallow, desperate, and already broken. I keep low, but death hums overhead. If this is the end, and often it nearly is, know this: I thought…
BB Grey--musings 