Well, as a haberdasher,
one multiplies 300,000
youngsters by two legs
and quantifies a sudden
this season, on a scale
to compel peace talks,
subito. But possibly,
this is the logic of a
nation of shopkeepers,
not of their clients in
fashion's cauldron.
Where is the edifice of
permanence, for man to
confide his aspiration?
The fascist monstrosity
shown above, as much as
Lutjens' revolting dur-
has no response to give.
Where does that come
from, do we suppose,
if not in embodying
disdain of vanities,
and guarded hope?
John Keegan
The First World War
Knopf, 1999©
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