Men with Empty Fuel Tanks
Men Hunting New Moons
Men in Slow Motion
Men Strolling Through Lavendar
Men on Weight Loss Programs
Men Who Cut Off Humanitarian Aid
About war, they say, there is nothing new to enjoy. It is as common for a son to cut off his father’s genitals and cast them into the sea, as it is for love to rise from that same water. It is the idea of benevolent royalty, and by equal turns, the revelation of a monarch’s sexual peccadillos set out in weekly serial form for all to read and marvel at, that may, curiously, entrench the people’s faith in despotism, and the people’s endorsement of their own exploitation. A man able to endure suffering at the hands of a dandy may be hailed a hero, or condemned a fool. Two men able to endure suffering at the hands of a dandy may have designs upon entering high society themselves, or training for the priesthood.
About war, they say, there is nothing new to edit. It is as common to marry the last G.I. to leave the country, as it is to divorce him as soon as you set foot on dry land. It is the dawn that resembles your homeland, and by equal turns, the dusk that resembles the moment of your family’s slaughter, that may lead us all into temptation. A man riding the fin of a bottlenose dolphin may be a happy-go-lucky surfer, or an Etruscan pirate in the process of transformation at the hands of a compassionate Dionysus. Two men riding the fins of bottlenose dolphins may be stirred by the prospect of sea pig cubes fried in miso sauce with vegetables, or rogue elements of the U.S. Navy Marine Mammal Program training dolphins to attack and kill deep sea divers.
About war, they say, there is nothing new to entrance us. It is as common to adopt an eagle for its grace and intuition, as it is to climb to its eyrie and smash its chick to death. It is the search for the bodies, and by equal turns, the unknown coordinates of the crash site, that may cause the Canadian bombardiers browsing the shelves of the boucherie to name their pet kittens Pride and Prejudice, and then forget which is which. A man baffled and aghast at the wreckage to his home may be so enervated he may never lift another book, or so energised he immediately runs to the ruins of his library to take up his pen and invent new forms of expression. Two men baffled and aghast at the wreckage of their homes may mobilise their neighbours to rampage through the streets outside the town hall, or join a group of botanists on an expedition to the fragile grasslands of Central Asia with the express purpose of clarifying the confusing issues whipped up by earlier botanical research carried out by plant ecologists who work across town in a rival university.
About war, they say, there is nothing new to influence the military-industrial complex. It is as common to believe conflict has no beginning, as it is to believe it has no end. It is the enormity of defence spending, and by equal turns, the peaceful nature of its goal, that may send a man to fight in the desert with a faulty rocket launcher. A man who marries in secret may do so because his spouse prefers it that way, or because both he and his spouse will be subjected to the vilification normally reserved for cut-throats and blackguards. Two men who marry in secret may be part of a cult planning their escape, or, confusingly, the man and his spouse mentioned earlier.
About war, they say, there is nothing new to advertise. It is as common to run, run, run, as it is to pick up heavy objects from a stationary position. It is the protein shake, and by equal turns, the bucket of KFC reward, that may delineate one of the major socially constructed differences between men and women. A man who pees on the town war memorial may be protesting against the nine countries that own nuclear weapons, or against the town council because it reneged on what he believed to be a watertight contract to rebuild the war memorial, and gave it instead to Terry, the only other reputable builder in town. Two men peeing on the town’s war memorial may have perfectly understandable medical reasons for doing so, or because after a night drinking lager to great excess, they think it’s riotously funny.
Men Who Cut Off Humanitarian Aid
About war, they say, there is nothing new to suspect. It is as common to find safety in the art gallery during air raids, as it is to end up in a refugee camp on the outskirts of the city. It is the continual use of biblical allusions, and by equal turns, the avoidable deaths of infant daughters, that may provoke a man to live his life as violently as possible, with short breaks for Christmas and Easter. A man who labels himself a revolutionary may be an ex-public school boy trading commodities from a stool in the men’s lavatory, or looking for a record deal. Two men who label themselves revolutionaries may desire the gravitas they believe it affords them due to their inherent cowardice, or have witnessed the slow deaths of their mothers who did nothing more than wash clothes and agree with men all their lives in order to protect their children.
Mark Russell’s publications include Spearmint & Rescue (Pindrop), and Shopping for Punks (Hesterglock). Other poems have appeared in Prelude, Blackbox Manifold, Stand, Shearsman, The Tangerine, and The Manchester Review.
