our army’s skill, praised
this morning by the Dean of
St Paul’s Cathedral
— what a hypocrite I am,
nursing my moral outrage!

I suppose the thought here is that whatever moral outrage flickered momentarily into life, providing the impetus for this poem, was itself as violent (psychologically speaking) as the physical violence, murder, butchery being celebrated this morning in St Paul’s Cathedral. I tuned in very briefly to TV coverage of the service. I am not “a pacifist”. But I am 90% pacifist.


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