Page 40 of Collected Poems

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On safe earth.

Epilogue

He Loves Me; He Loves Me Not

“Harold Wilson he loves

me he gave me

a gun in my time

of need to shoot

my rebellious brother. Edward

Heath he loves

me not he's promised a gun

to his sharpshooting

brother viewing me

crazily through ramparts

of white Pretoria…. It

would be awful

if he got me.” It was

awful and he got

him. They headlined it

on the BBC spreading

indignation through the

world, later that day

in emergency meeting his

good friend Wilson and Heath

his enemy crossed swords

over him at Westminster

and sent posthaste Sir Alec to Africa

for the funeral.

Dereliction

I quit the carved stool

in my father's hut to the swelling

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