It is dusk
I crane my neck
Score her initials in
The condensation
Then wipe the window clean
A shirt cuff has many uses!
To the beat of hunting oscillation
From the passenger car I see
A glum star submerge
An inevitable sinking
Into the quicksand
That is the far horizon
Travelling coast bound
I leave in my wake
My impetuous inamorata
And head toward a place of
Trench coats and rain clouds
Arras and the
Undeterred stray dogs
I am told
Will molest anything
In search of sustenance
Soon the others and I will arrive
Folkestone Harbour Station
Our destination
The last piece of England
We shall set foot on
Soon we shall be in Calais
Soon we shall be at the front
Soon we will be at war
I shall write her daily if I can
I traded her intimacy
Her flesh and soul
For the thuggery of…
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