The Curse

and the curse is that
life becomes worse - each
bad seed sown yields
a bitter harvest black
and lone - there
will be dust there
will be bone and
already the water drives
millions from their homes
and guns line
the rivers of Babylon
firing rivers of
blood, passion - this
is the human race this
heritage of
saving face and
running ruin, of
hoarding wealth and
parturition, of
parting land and water to
make it mine to
stake out strategic
territory - the
homeland of the savage
the homeland of the just
is just
over the banks of the
river if we could
reclaim it reclaim
the Eden that was ours
and live

previous poem