MARK RUSSELL‘s first full collection is Spearmint & Rescue (Pindrop Press). A selection of poems are published here. He has also published Shopping for Punks (Hesterglock), a full collection of experimental work. His chapbooks are ℵ (the book of moose) (Kattywompus), ا (the book of seals), and Saturday Morning Pictures (both with Red Ceilings). His poetry has been published in The Rialto, Tears in the Fence, The Interpreter’s House, Bare Fiction, Shearsman, Blackbox Manifold, The Scores, and elsewhere.
https://markrussellat.wordpress.com/, @mark59russell

             Men Adapting Short Stories

About war, they say, there is nothing new to
ready us for death. It is as common to peer
through the branches at a man about to be
hanged, as it is to question our suspension
of civilian morality. It is the sentimental
attachment to our country and our family,
and by equal turns, the delusion that something
noble lies at the heart of our belligerent
endeavours, that may destroy our urge for a
happy ending. A man surfacing from the depths
of a river may stumble through the birch to find
his lover, or disrupt the narrative to no political
end. Two men surfacing from the depths of a
river may convince themselves their cause is
just so they may brutalise non-combatants, or
hand in their comrades to save their own necks.

                        Men in Rome

About war, they say, there is nothing new
to defend. It is as common to respect a city’s
capitulation, as it is to bomb the place to hell. It
is the old jokes that never die, and by equal
turns, the perennial tyrannies returning each
spring, that may fill an atheist with a soul in
which he doesn’t believe. A man who shoots a
pregnant woman in the back may have his
finger on the trigger, or on the camera. Two
men who shoot a pregnant woman in the back
may do it for the glory of the fatherland, or for
a line of coke and a fur coat.

                 Men and Their Children

About war, they say, there is nothing new to
reflect. It is as common to peer into glassy
water and die of self-love, as it is to smash
mirrors on the tiled floor and dance in its
bloody chaos. It is the knowledge one acquires
by others’ perception of you, and by equal
turns, the ignorance one hordes in denying
one’s perception by others, that may lead a
single man to force his countrymen and his
enemies onto the wild moors. A man with $11
million to spend may find himself bankrupt
within minutes of landing in Las Vegas, or
about to realise his magnum opus. Two men
with $11 million to spend may feel they can
afford not to forgive their treacherous offspring
despite the entreaties of their fool, or buy
themselves a French second division striker to
aid their latest push for promotion.

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