Up and Out
At this empyrean time when we have gained the moon
in our nineteen seventies’ boots we smash barbarian heels
on bowels and balls
of internee; jag flesh on spikes of glass, fry babies,
sear with liquid fire old men, depose the irretrievable
brain; slit, mutilate,
in cruelty far outlashing jungle territorial lusts.
North or brown, black or west, there is no clear difference
as to time nor place
in our nice savageries — perhaps a finer point of torture
here or there: electronics has its undeniable innovative
but the vomit of prehistory reeks curiously
identical with that of the twentieth century.
Up and Out by Eithne Strong , from Sarah in Passing . The Dolmen Press Poetry , 1974.