Martin Robertson

Now and Then

Full Circle

Uproot the rich hedges that roads may be wider

that more cars may carry more carcase-ladings

farther, faster, in their frantic, red-queen,

heartblank hunger to out-hurry time.

The sea-edge solution, salty, bloodwarm,

lay quick with life, with love, with mansoul.

Now we pump back poison from our panic deathwish,

slip to lasting sleep in a sterile slime.