Barren and burnished The air clangs angry Above the political city; Drums, statues: The organisation of Absence of love.
, Shops, full or empty,
Are owned by the queues.
The police belong To the frogmarched suspect.
The censors serve The poem's love.
Where the social words Are gnawed like carrion In a blank, blinding light, Poetry dies or defies With vision to prove, People to love.