Despotisms

I: THE MOTOR: 1905 From hedgerows where aromas fain would be New volleyed odours execrably arise; The flocks, with hell-smoke in their patient eyes, Into the ditch from bawling ruin flee: Spindrift of one abominated sea Along all roads in wrecking fury flies Till on young strangled leaf, on bloom that dies, In this far plot it writes a rune for me. Vast intimate tyranny! Nature dispossessed Helplessly hates thee, whose symbolic flare Lights up (with what reiterance unblest!) Entrails of horror in a world thought fair. False God of pastime thou, vampire of rest, Augur of what pollution, what despair?