A'CTS OF GOD
can, to strangling courthouse or the marble shaky bank, apply
the probe of many bayonets.
71
Always were we impaled upon the spines of the inhuman seasons.
Headed with frightful feathers, gold-knived, the Aztec
millionaire
slaked heaven with hearts fountaining naked on the elaborate
stone.
Thus now the priests of finance consecrate us naked to
the planet's brutal stone.
From which we rise with bloodied knees, we wide as America.
The rivers are our race. Each corn sprouts from an exploited eye.
Were not of Quetzalcoatl the gross and costly pyramids
split with explosive leaves? Our class already stands,
burning with growth.
On fresh tables can lie flowers and the heavenly grains of the soil.
Yes, from the shining mines propped with our incollapsible
strut of mutual arms, we can, on god-abolishing rails,
condense our power to propel the tremendous
irriga~ion,
the communal Mississippi.
DAVID WOLFF
