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
advantages –

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.

• The Dolmen Press
•  Eithne Strong
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•  A Saturday Woman Poet on Poethead