FLAMETHROWER
got job as
gardener
put a flamethrower
and (Zyklon-B
out of stick)
gallons of
agent orange
in my hand
can’t believe what
happened to this garden:
not a single rose
red or white to
fight
hack to death over
what the Hell since
my ancestors invaded
has happened
to this place?
Oh they brought you silk
they brought you cotton
brought you
Asian and African wisdom
brought you Rolling Stones
Kinks Zeppelin
and Beatles
(same river
wound its dark way
past our homes)
and now I must massacre
weeds to save
the bowling green surface
recite Prufrock under
the collapsed
gazebo
once walked the streets
with Swift and Pope from
Ashton to
Rusholme
once
when the youth stuck a
big fuck you
through lips and nose
deconstructive style
meaning anarchy baby
death throes felt
that we all must
surely see
fuck you-s through
poems 2 die for 