In suits and skirts, an army with feet of clay, regiments
behind typewriters, standing at
the doors of lifts, bent to release minutes
from the crossbows of their desks, buried
in paperwork, holding the reins
at photocopiers, immobilised
they file, division by division.
An inland city.
A king who thought himself
a god: Woden, Barton
Parkes: they had names for these tombs.
Redoubt, December 1990