What plays us back - death? That
this worlds a stage and we upon it act
to revolve the scenery with our yearning:
and while the syrinx play, panic rebounds
to the dead cry: ET IN ARCADIA EGO
from the walled garden and far wilderness.
O desert! O armour-plated sun!
Under a scornful wind the madmen bellow
and tribes cower amongst the rubble,
caught in the sound bites & grabs of war:
Tibet, Chechnya, Kurdistan, Iraq, Burundi,
plus the boys in the hills back of Montana.