—Boom!Boom! the drums of Ang-Land come:
I see blind stars burst in the sky,
And wonder how to bleed the best;
I'll take no bread, I'll take no rest,
While war is waged and Men die deaths.
—Boom!Boom! the drummers have begun:
So steel meets steel and Men bleed blood.
If metal's forged in flames of spleen,
Our mettle's pounded painful keen:
Carve pound for pound this muddy green!
—Boom!Boom! the drums of Ang-Land thrum:
A throbbing wound all hearts must feel,
When fields not green drink fallen men;
A toast to insurrection!
And all cold lips sing harsh peals grim:
—boom-boom—so all bold hearts do run.
God, it's goddamn morning again,
splashing in the sink with a sink-
ing feeling; but blind fear's so bland, and
I'm so fucking done with faceless-
ly facing the dawn something less
than sober. DUI's aside. Lied
to you last night, like every night,
said I still loved you, stifling
a yawn. You're old; yeah, so am I. Sigh.
Let's just move on, just go gently
into that mourning light, listless,
over it all. All over again. Then
I'm manic morbid and wired,
almost apathetic and sick,
which is kind of like content, I guess. Yes,
dressed in Dresden black, we'll take back
the night that was never ours. Drive
miles from our memories and fate. Late,
too late we learn, looking to be
lewd, that sane's just a state of mind.
Never mine. Life's just how I like it. Shit.
William Aaron Tanner's professional writing career has encompassed various and sundry ways of paying his bills, including art framer, armored courier, and EFL teacher. He spent four years living at the foot of Mt. Fuji, writing poems, novels, and screenplays between teaching classes. He currently lives in New Jersey with his ferret Unagi, who followed him from Japan, where he is working towards a Ph.D. in Early Modern Literature at Rutgers University. He believes that literature and criticism are not mutually exclusive categories, and that they are necessarily political acts—both unpopular opinions in the overly complacent Academy.
del.icio.us
