In the 19th century, citizens would have lunch
and watch a battle. Now, in war, citizens
are for lunch. I cannot stomach tales
of 20th century war. As an idle citizen, fragile,
old, and full of doom, even a game of chess
makes me shudder. I feel sorry for children
and dogs. O take me to the flower show.
Return, Victorian poems and sentimentality!
Polite poem, it was always you! The word
should be the soldier; fight with language;
with all your cunning and sincerity tell a tale:
The 20th century is when it all began to fail.