Operation Square Leg
‘Are we living in a land Where sex and horror are the
new Gods?’ — Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Two Tribes
Some place in Soviet Russia, a Commander
sets down his lunch-break tea,
selects the next slide on his inventory:
Port of Tyne, South Shields.
With a cartographer’s grace, he plots
a diagrammatic map of strategic targets:
munitions lines at Scotswood,
steelworks in Consett, the slake at Jarra.
Higher up the command chain,
over salvers of mackerel and stuffed olives,
Generals signal the go-ahead
and a domino of procedures fall.
My parents are disco-dancing in Rupert’s
The page you have requested is restricted to subscribers only. Please enter your username and password and click on 'Continue'.
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login
details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are already a member and have not received your login details, please email us,
including your name and address, and we will supply you with details of how to access the archived material.
If you are not a member and would like to enjoy the growing online archive of Stand Magazine
, containing poems, articles, prose and reviews,
why not subscribe
to the website today?