Friday, September 01, 2006

Greenhead to Once Brewed, walling it

cold shower
we're really in the army now
in uniform of smelly clothes
not changed for days
but we did rinse them a few times

brekkie at the YHA
we wished that we had stayed here
Fiona puts love into her cooking
another familiar face
we walk around the village with another familiar face, Martin
because last night our stomachs brought us in the short way
circle around back to the bunkhouse
Ines joins us
ice cream
walking in a world heritage site now
packaged attraction
theme park
day trippers and wall walkers
here we all walk pathways together
do you get more respect for carrying a pack?

a marine asks us where to stay
this is the beginning of a long story
but to cut a long story short
there are stalkers on this trail
but to cut a long story short
get ahead of them to avoid any contact

a moment of group attention is drawn to drawing the quarry
marine nightmares are layered over the top
i can now see bodies choppped in half floating with the ducks
frozen in a horrific time of trauma
im speechless

we are a country at war
a reality sinks in
for a moment I am lost struggling to think who with
the enemy does not concretise in my mind
a country? a group of people? an ideology?
How confusing
with whom exactly are we at war?
or do post modern rejections of binary oppositions now apply to wars aswell?
A dangerous cynical place
a nasty taste in my mouth

military jets keep flying over head
that pylon over there is not on the map
it must be secret
later, we learn that the pylon is on the map, quite clearly
maybe we have the army edition of the ordnance survey map

we climb on
the highest place
the most open place
the pinnacle of connected lands
still militarised
in present and past

running down the rigg with boards
charcoal sculpting together the path we ran
we look back but
focused on the present
only the ancient military are with us now
the others go home


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