Military Tattoo

The Blue Army advances:

down the pitch,

the petrol station forecourt,

the beer garden,

the paths marked by arrows

pointing to the choicest boudoirs.

They're closing in,

all the same but all so different,

each soldier a billboard for

life's mottos in Sanskrit,

eye-catching tableaux

of peacocks and balls.

If we could only read what's writ

upon their chests, the sincere screed.

Here they come, marching on, surging,

choking out and purging

the few blooms left unmarked,

like Japanese knotweed.

The battle won, may you sleep

my bearded beauties. May rest

and repose ravel up the blue

tattooed sleeve of care.

Metrosexual mind maps laid bare

betwixt the wrist and elbow.

We marvel at the manly charms

displayed upon their forearms.

B.R. 09.05.2021