base camp vantage point thought saturations no.1

slow imbalance shrouds conjuring frozen omens in a long cold… two room field hospital on the northern perimeter… drawn-out dissonant resonance, standardised procedures crackle in dying head-sets… a crippled sun bleeds poisoned yellow over dismal radioactive snowfields…  empty beds, shattered windows, our breath in the air as we boil the remaining rations…

morning prayer and water purification… magnesium and iron… rogue drones whine hopelessly lost in a chemical heavens… cold fronts blow in as war hymns flit and whirr from a portable turntable, car-battery operated, connected to a clock radio speaker… a hundred thousand miles of steppe, a broken promise in a long stare in the half-light…

depopulation, fire-bombing, base camp vantage point thought saturation… do that cold-hearted loss-of-innocence pose on the rifle-range, board member mahogany tables in flames…. oil-slaked body parts; war games… a protocol sheet nailed to the head of a dead child soldier… know still there is a dim flicker of salvation beyond these blackened inclines…

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