Justice And Mercy/ Are Human Dreams, They

Humanity Is The Start Of The Race; I Say Humanity Is The Mould To Break Away From, The Crust To Break Through, The Coal To Break Into Fire, The Atom To Be Split.

When The Sun Shouts And People Abound One Thinks There Were The Ages Of Stone And The Age Of Bronze And The Iron Age; Iron The Unstable Metal; Steel Made Of Iron, Unstable As His Mother; The Tow-ered-up Cities Will Be Stains Of Rust On Mounds Of Plaster. Roots Will Not Pierce The Heaps For A Time, Kind Rains Will Cure Them, Then Nothing Will Remain Of The Iron Age And All These People But A Thigh-bone Or So, A Poem Stuck In The World's Thought, Splinters Of Glass In The Rubbish Dumps, A Concrete Dam Far Off In The Mountain.

That Public Men Publish Falsehoods Is Nothing New. That America Must Accept Like The Historical Republics Corruption And Empire Has Been Known For Years. Be Angry At The Sun For Setting If These Things Anger You.

Poetry Is Not A Civilizer, Rather The Reverse, For Great Poetry Appeals To The Most Primitive Instincts.

Oh Heavy Change. The World Deteriorates Like A Rotting Apple, Worms And A Skin.