an appalling wilderness of worlds

An Appalling Wilderness of Worlds

Heads directly into a nightmare. MASSIVE EXPLOSIONS from

benches made from twigs, trees from flowers, picnic cups from acorns.

Out of the frying pan, into the fucking latrine. Look at the bright side

recede as billowing white smoke and dust fill the frame.

I've never been in combat. I make maps. I translate. I need

you to know that the last thing I would do, the very last thing, is tarnish

jokes about things of, or related to, the preaching of the Holy Gospel, including

these odd dreams, like my subconscious is after me. Punishing me for 

this paratrooper caught in a tree with a broken leg. The leg got

an awful lot of questions that have no relevance to you being

the scene of heavy fighting. Craters, burning debris and

anything that anyone else can do, do you understand?

I aim, I got my finger tight on the trigger and then I just

completely shut down and the atmosphere is like the 

series of trenches across the street, leading to the

little doses of poison, all those broken promises.