children
of the new forest
it
is no good giving in
and
not giving in to what
our
combat says we need
your
fantasy
of
a harsh adept power
so
adept you do not know it happens
so
harsh that it breaks you open
and
my obtuse arcadia
bulldozing
up rain-forests
and
dying there
in
that order
it
is no good forgetting
that
it is like that
or
I shall hug my malice
like
a wincing of cardiac trouble
to
be exorcised only by misrendered psalms
and
you will brood
in
a pride like an unwashed brocade
in
a self-disrespect
as
bad as night flowers smelling of urine
and
our children will suffer
I
shall let them wade
through
cholera swamps to their end
you
will hug them
to
your out-of-date queenly dugs
killing
them with a bad salinity
my
power will let them waste
your
love will embitter
