The Good in the Bad

There are sweet spirits in fermented fruit.

We need our heavy anchor in the tempest,

And pray for sanguine shade in the desert. 

There are lovely lilies in the bog.

We look for telling signals in the fire,

And passion in a lover’s petty jealousy.

Reformed Savage

Hold your forked tongue.

        Don’t flash your razor teeth

            and leave my scalp alone.

Don’t think
to shrink 
my head, 

You may have it wrong.

      We’ve had it wrong all along;

                Scalping was taught 
in English,

      and the blood of war has long

Been on Roman hands.

       One hand on 
       innocent mouths

                and the Other probing their brain.

Poor marionette men 
      Held 

By savages in armchairs.