At the end of the month insane petrolic fever spiked the battalion which glowed like billions of archangels quivering with a fluorescent hum over honeycombed CANAAN. Quasar. Quasar. Dark matters all over again in the sun. The boy spat mouthful of sucked cherry bones into the sea then turned a leaf of his Britannica.  

A polar moment of inertia. Lyddite and ammonal mud. On Heroes Day the boy forgot the names of all seven national heroes of his island. He also moon mouthed the Our Father anthem. “Pest” for “bless” “slaughter” for “guidance” and dropped booms between JAMAICA: “JAMAICA” boom “JAMAICA” boom “JAMAICA” boom-sha-ka-la-ka “land we love.”

In his Britannica he found another BLUE MOUNTAINS in Australia other than the ones at the back of his grandmother’s house. Filled with jealous rage he tore out the entry page and stuff it in Horace’s mouth. Then throughout the operations with the scantiest clothing and long marches without water and privations up in the mountains of JUDAEA all ranks carried out their duties well and with great cheerfulness they sipped ALBION sour milk.

Then proceeded to HAMPTON COURT where he took stock of his jam jar of blinky blink fireflies as if they were gold coins of fluctuating bullion flourishing in the deep dark of night.

Concerning everything he was desirous of instruction. But particularly concerning this

tree. Azalea morning. Flashpoint want. The morning was evening.

He fastened a crown of hibiscus on his head during Social Studies under

the flowering Indian maple. The strength of the battalion stood at 36

officers and 1068 other ranks making 4 officers and 55

other ranks over establishment. Godspeed struck

myrmidons from his shin. They twinkled in the dust.

Then men proceeded to TAHPANHES where weeping was ceaseless.

Then proceeded to SYDON and TYRE. Godspeed was almost afraid of butterflies.

They sickened him during the breeding season when they swarmed around any

source of water. It was around this time when the day was hot and everything

was green he saw that the puddles were moving and the cars were crushing butterflies and the roads were moving too because the butterflies were slowly

dying on the roads. Everything moved around. The leaves on the trees swayed

not from the wind but from butterflies. Butterflies were everywhere alive on

the blooming lilacs and dead on the roads.

At the beginning of the month the strength of the battalion stood at 36 officers and

1034 other ranks.

(Note: “The Anabasis of Godspeed” is excerpted from a book-length poem, School of Instructions. A memorial to the experience of West Indian soldiers serving in British regiments during World War I, the poem is also the narrative of Godspeed, a young boy living in rural Jamaica in the 1990s.)