THE TRENCHES

By Robert Graves

Scratches in the dirt?

No, that sounds much too nice.

Oh, far too nice.

Seams, rather, of a Greyback Shirt,

And we're the little lice

Wriggling about in them a week or two,

Till one day, suddenly, from the blue

Something bloody and big will come

Like — watch this fingernail and thumb!—

Squash! and he needs no twice.