Caesar has buried so many men,
Someone has the numbers but no one is counting.
Caesar has the stadiums hanging by his thumb,
The sound over the hills jubilant with blood.
Food in his houses needs ten chefs,
Plus decimating stooges testing poison.
He has a man at all times by his side
To remind him he’s human and that’s called Respect.
Caesar has no time for a province like this.
We can smell the seaside thyme,
Minute by minute watch hens argue over pieces of straw.
Here there’s wine when we get past philosophy.
In the cool we go to the library or the rockpools,
Make love or get our tongue around exile.
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