Thank you, Misha
For the new road to Martvili.
Past travellers speak of attacking, rutting, gouging terrain. Now
This scold’s bridle muffles land of
Blubbing streams, cracked hazelnut groves, skeletal corn fields and
Abandoned ancient cobbled stones that watch, side
Lined as salient ornate filigree balconies, bridges from the past,
bristle with resentment.
Patriarchal land, scattered with golden fleece promises
Calls the beasts from wooded places
and they come, one and all.
Cows, ducks, goats, cocks, chicks, dogs, horses, pigs, bears, wolves. They are set on
Reclaiming the old road and, oblivious to your ideology, Misha, they will beat and tear
With brooms and chairs and nettles and with righteous anger,
The new road down.
They do not care for your future, Misha.
The beasts of the land return
Reclaim the teeming earth.