The People, the People

For love we all go

To that mountain

Of human flesh

Which exists

And is incapable

Of love and which we saw

In the image

Of a woman-We said once

She was beautiful for she was

Suffering

And beautiful. She was more ambitious

Than we knew

For wealth

And more ruthless-speaking

Still in that image, we will never be free

Again from the knowledge

Of that hatred

And that huge contempt. Will she not rot

Without us and die

In childbed leaving

Monstrous issue-