Trench Life
The beating of their hearts
Like thunder sounded
Muted though still loud
Like sixty thousand drums
All beating
Neath those sixty thousand
Khaki blouses ...
Loud enough to drown out
Cussing and the fretting
Plus the retching and the
Heaving
Not to mention all the heavy
Breathing
There was an awful lot of that
Let none of us forget tho’
The sound of mouthed
And whispered prayers
The snap of fixing bayonets
Oh’ and yes
Those bloody goddam shells
Then comes a burst or two of
Machine spat sound and light
Both deafeningly loud and
Oh’ so blindingly bright
Through razor-wire and flesh
They cut
On what should surely
Just have been another
Quiet, still and starless night ...