Give Them No Pillow For Their Heads Even Of Granite Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

give them no pillow for their heads even of granite
haul them away with their unearned wreaths of laurel
suspend their lousy pay:

let the chorus that surrounds their evacuated stage surge on

as though they were freshly laid and left to crows
let carrion tribunals be gathered in this bold update
send their angels away

who are they to receive the honour
of having their death masks made
lay not the sweetheart's myrtle wreath

in any possible proximity

before them though they were only pawns to other men's say so..
or called up as surrogate victims. fodder for the profiteers
ah ah shed no shed no tears

let their names unheralded be not even what snows can whisper over
and glaring light henceforth reveal only the shame
of the remains of blank pedestals and the petals scattered

in futility over their marred shadows.

we want it that way o we do
the harrowing left to us anew
the bereaving left to

court the air who knows where
the harbours in this disappearing act after the fact
the drowning columns.

though in leafy shade
they had long been ignored by passerby
part of the background of days and artifacts

forever at their backs
the nightmare trumpets in retreat
fanning the night. the awol and the mad children.
stumbling the other way over brier and branch
wild in their tears

the unpensioned in no flight.

their pension death.and their preamble too.
let them never breathe stone breath again

now never laid to rest by our decree
as though Christ had never come.
and Lincoln never said with charity with
malice toward none, let us bind up the wounds of the nation...

in this new shunning.
the childish drummers stilled.
broken. stone stubble in the fields.

mary angela douglas 4 august 2020