Founding Monuments Of Love And Cold War Poem by Mark Heathcote

They remove their love and are totally ambivalent
When they punish him, it'll be justice in their eyes.
Yet a sentence of death might be more civilised.

This is how families operate, they dance on his heart
They make it stop/start dispose of it in a dustcart:
Before they've torn it apart, and made his eyes smart.

They'll make it bleed, a cruel deliberate absence.
He'll shake shiver while they takeout little-hatchets
Chisels and aim their weapons like silent-assassins.

Sharpening their skills, tearing down a war monument
They've only done battle with. Yet, he's fraudulent.
He never loved them, their voices hateful and vehement.

He never appreciated us, let's now threaten and betray him,
He's the devil incarnate, let's all now discard him.
He isn't our kith or kin. Lord god we all despise him.

It's a kind of patronymic self-inflicted nosebleed…
That this and previous generations have sown the seed.
Yet, with each stab he grows stronger and won't concede.

Only the absence of one true Father truly matters.
"Son, daughter, mother, sister, brother you're all blackballed"
You are neighbouring ranchers and would-be squatters.
And now, now it's time to clean out that old backyard.