Soldiering On
from The Map of Everything
written and read by Anne Fitzgerald

With each train of thought you lose the run of yourself
let-on to let go of white-rains haven, a make-believe
avalanche craw-thumping: makes signs crosshatch
and the blessed haves and have-nots seek loadstones.
For deceit snows you under belief-bridges, suspend
-ing a complex notion that joins no two ends
arcs across T joints, brackets loosen your ego’s triad
fastens, steadfast and steady as she goes through a self-made
motion reaching discovery’s edges — square-curved
liking soap’s fragrance in the globe of a palm, perfumery
elect holding scents honesty in the dampness of walls
and washed hands: Pilate and Macbeth back from beyond
unchanged like a coat of arms. Legging it through history
histrionics recalls when flesh hid in soap
its de facto manifesto wipes suds out of European eyes.
Bakelite pens sign treaties blind to what lies between lines
softly as sleep claims names adding weight to All Souls Day
the list lengthens day-light saving hours, foreshortened.
Brightness eclipses Nissen huts for exclamations in masonry
souvenirs shattered-to-smithereens mark a calling card
a lunar arrangement similar to Orion’s red-blue star artillery.