Remembrance Sunday
My grandad fought at the Battle of Kohima (Burma) in 1944. I've written this as a memorial to him (Ted Hoban). Kohima What a marvel is ancient man! tangled propagation delayed to the end the divine sepulchre of life, tennis court overrun, bayoneted and shot extreme separation anxiety in dying or isolated from the body when pernicious lists are dry springes – when prefixed mourning counting toward gestures of weird bread/wine ignore the recognition of absence, the suffering of absence. A petrified destination so dark it’s not like sleep, Austere black as anaesthetic, but One null device unannealed ignobly saturated in foreign rain will be no more string, strategically and in the light miss you to would miss you