Where Beneath This Hill Poem by Mark Heathcote

Where beneath this hill can I find you still?
In your black mink coat, palms so immense
they've tunnelled the earth, uprooted a daffodil
all for a worm, have you no common sense?

You've uprooted the boundary barbed wire fence.
I splat down the soil, flatten your overspill
I stamp down your mounds with my espadrille
with you, I've never seen - I'm becoming incensed.

Pack up your belongings and leave my address
each waking morning, new bombs have fallen
let's get out the beach flags and wave fanfares; The Moles they're a-coming, our house has befallen?