I wonder who installed you here
Amid the olive trees,
Surrounded by fresh blades of grass
And red anemones.<\/p>\n
Was it perchance the motorist
Who caused your ninth-life’s loss,
Or one of the Christian pilgrim dears
Seeking their Holy Cross?<\/p>\n
Whatever the truth, here you’ve lain
Beside the museum fence
From Passover Eve to Easter Day.
Oh, won’t you vanish hence!<\/p>\n
For this is part of my chosen route, In a day or two – God help my nose! – True, I’m inclined to raise you up Yet, stinking was your natural course As to the tree whose ancient roots And so I am obliged to bear For, after all, it won’t be long Meantime I leave this little mutt, Jerusalem <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I wonder who installed you hereAmid the olive trees,Surrounded by fresh blades of grassAnd red anemones. Was it perchance the motoristWho caused your ninth-life’s loss,Or one of the Christian pilgrim dearsSeeking their Holy Cross? Whatever the truth, here you’ve lainBeside the museum fenceFrom Passover Eve to Easter Day.Oh, won’t you vanish hence! For this is […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/222"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=222"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/222\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=222"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=222"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michaelpeach.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=222"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Which dodges the tourist shoals,
To the Gan ha-Botani<\/em> lying beyond
Where I rest my weary soul.<\/p>\n
You’re going to stink to heaven.
But mark these words, O grinning bag,
I’m totally void of leaven.<\/p>\n
By means of that ginger tail,
And fling you o’er the museum wall
To confound the tourist trail.<\/p>\n
Both in and out of doors,
And shame would never cross your mind
When marking what was yours.<\/p>\n
Will absorb your putrid flesh,
Together with the birds and plants
He’ll merely feel more fresh.<\/p>\n
The burden of your state,
To hold my nose, beat off the flies;
Accept this scene as fate.<\/p>\n
Before the summer heat
Has rendered you quite odourless
And killed the lovely sweets.<\/p>\n
At whom you used to hiss
To roll with joy upon you neck
And shower you with piss.<\/p>\n\n
\n
20 April 1992<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n