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Poem: “Dulce et decorum est,” by Wilfred Owen

Poem: “Dulce et decorum est,” by Wilfred Owen

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots But limped on, blood-shod....
Poem: “My Moral Life,” by  Mark Halliday

Poem: “My Moral Life,” by Mark Halliday

Two years hence. When I’m ready. After one more set of poems about my beautiful confusion. After I’ve read Anna Karenina and Don Quixote and the first volume at least of Proust and one big novel by Thomas Mann— say three years. Three years hence: after...