I won the war
You asked if I was proud
I could never feel pride
For having to fight
In the first place
I won the war
I'm left with the thought
What were we even fighting for?

I'm ageless as the ruins of Rome.
I live in the white cliffs of Dover.
I'm the Pyramids and Great Wall.
I'm the tiny voices in your head
that never leave you alone and
chant your failures out loud in
bed with lovers never satisfied.
I'm Death's brutal echo forever.

The journalist stated,
' this story has mileage and could
run and run'

The editor replied
' why drive your car without tyres
when all you're doing is gouging
the roads and ruining your rims
and car in the process'

The journalist answered
' let's call it poetry then'

The Editor intoned drily,
'its unsubstantiated, unverified
sources dubious, very dubious.
No, call it fiction and go find a publisher
and another job'