pH Letters

Hallowed desires disguise distant demons.

A pious plea for tomorrow’s thoughts

animate the night. Savages creep, one in chase

of the other, seventeen hours a day,

on guard patrol, 2 miles north and two

in the other direction – seconds

minutes, hours and days on cold trails,

If that bush moves closer, shoot soldier



paranoia is the real difference between

returning to base or going up in smoke. Last week

a baby-faced recruit rekindled his

Humanity and lost an arm for it

better men have not been so lucky. If

there is a Satan; I suppose the army’s bereavement

team are his stooges: we


Are sorry for your loss Madam,

your son was a brave man. Here’s

a penny for your loss and a front

page cover as memorabilia. Surviving here

means lying to your loved ones,

learn the script and repeat these phrases:

Everything – is…

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