On Reading of Messines

As the mandrills pock-egged and gnarled
Came tumbling through the
Gloomy view
I sat and rubbed the ghoul's
Whitening thigh
What frozen way do you count this waste
Strewn like a beggar's wage
By men too full of pride and plenty

An imperial house of idiots
Let loose their toy chest
And usurped the world
Of thinking men
A crushed and breaking
Squelch that turned their heads

All right I say
From up above and down below
The covens cry of hungry feet
And and swollen mouths
With nothing left to walk with
But our thousand crimes

Could you speak in any softer tone
When all the air
Is sliced from your jaunty belly
With a lion's claw
Red hot in no-man's land

And the sky above
Black-streaked with iron
Like screaming babies
Never faced again
My sunken mud-faced mate
No face no guts no legs

And crawling from the docks
The bastards could never know
How could we even start to say
What a time we had
And what we
Left behind