Now the British comes to shore
wet and tired from colonial gatherings
he sits on the bench
in the park smoking a cigar
...
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this poem reminded me of whatever little colonial literature i've studied...what ferocity! what blood-stained episodes of history! to what end! the poem carries old ideas with entirely new images in a new light like British tired from colonial gatherings....n the rising of the sun from the East....the poem is also a wonder of run-on-line arrangement that shows a flow of thought....
a very poignant and lovely write.....cheers Ah! ....to what end...! my respected poet friend asks.... go ye next to the London museum....read ye Somerset Maugham.....roam ye the world from Cairo to Fiji...skip thee the waves from Andamans to Falklands.....and surely you shall reflect and remember the Bard.....i quote....from Julius caeser Marcus Antonius's speech ....the evil that men do............ i rest my case. :) sat