Talus Imperial Outpost

The funding committee speaks pidgin
the district officer, fluent in the local tongue
has dealt with difficult natives before
descending pale hope like rain on Regent Street
a bimbashi with no shortage of Yung
to put forward for readings
carps dart in the green radiant classroom
Dragons nurture in vitrio

Lazy days at the outpost
cricket-bats and blues hang on grey walls
Blue Book on a windowsill
a sahib waits for the end of Michaelmas
mournful mountains peer in at the voyageurs
the Irregulars curry-down horse sweat
from last nights patrol. Dice cards bones
loiter skoff latte and a muffin at Borders
the Rooinek eat separately with their
M4A1 carbines and AN-PVS4 iambic pentameters,
trauma plates, concrete poems, visors, lyrics
The Ever Victorious Army at laager.
Virginia chatters on short wave radio

The district officer prepares his orders for the felah
picking out the babus, bringing light to dark
once a week he meets
a merchant friend in the bazaar
and a woman in a drab house on a once genteel street
he doles out imperial pennies
encourages the correct
cultural events, greets their
poems with little smiles
He floats in a white Range Rover to the Red Cross tent
watches the sick and dispossessed gather in an orderly manner
expecting semantics rhymes and couplets,
epic poems, worthless actions

In ridges to the north
membrane damp and cold
blue paint leaks virulent
bones become maleable soggy thoughts
belief but no ideas
meditation and praise poems cannot gain
traction
ambush
eagle floats in mist
more image than bronze
t he Dragon is now Yam Luo
the sahibs vulnerable back, shift eyes
at the chapatis sudden quick gleam
sunset spins afire the ridge line
you are now Yam Luo
you stand astride reverse
peace is war
lyric rebarbative
light dark
persuasion torture
freedom the gun-butt to a woman's head
you a sucking fly on a fat cows belly