They call here, <br />-Magnificent Province! <br />Province of Mud! <br />Province of flood! <br /> <br />Who are the magnificent here? <br />Not I with this torn shirt <br />but they, in their white mansions <br />by the trench of blood! <br /> <br />I tell you <br />this is no magnificent province <br />no El Dorado for me <br />no streets paved with gold <br />but a bruising and battering for self preservation <br /> <br />in the white dust and grey mud. <br />I tell you and I tell no secret - <br />now is the long past time for worship <br />long past time for kneeling <br /> <br />with clasped hands at altars of poverty <br />How are the mighty slain? <br />by this hammer of my hand! <br />by this anger in my life! <br />by this new science of men alive <br /> <br />everywhere in this province! <br />thus - are the mighty slain!<br /><br />Martin Carter<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/not-i-with-this-torn-shirt/
