End of the Century, 1984

Death Synthetic winds have blown awayMaterial dust, but this one roomRebukes the constant violet rayAnd dustless sheds a dusty gloom.Wrecked on the outmoded pastLie North and Hillard, Virgil, Horace,Shakespeare’s bones…

Dulce et Decorum Est

By Wilfred Owen Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs, And towards our…