Revelations
London, 1924 They did not normally have people for dinner. The war made such gluttony feel unfair; the empty chairs and departed voices had subsumed the vivid pleasures of ante-bellum times. But now, for the first time in a very long time, there would be something of a party at number fifteen Eaton
Double Sorrow
Look, our careless sleep has laid the world to siege. Morning thrusts its tattered sails like white surrenders into this, our dream, our winter palace, while spores of mustard gas steal homeward from the breach so we might taste our cruelty with those towns strung out all night
