TO THOREAU

The land you so praised, the men

who dwelt in there in your time

- stolen land and

sons of thieves; a land

whose true names were torn

away, replaced with names

to sooth the minds
of heirs to brutes

who burned the villages of

tribes whose languages

and the land were one.

You praised what was

a blighted, lesser place

after a crime was done,

when the soil in its bosom

hid the bones of its true

dwellers. Oh, Thoreau

you made an idyll out of

a land in the shadow

of a genocide!

24.-25.02.2019