few in number but each was a war-man
famous for trumpet and spear
loaded with gorgon poison
his senate men of meager substance all
a race of men born from the trunks of oak trees
and there were the gauls
and there were the tufted caps and the shields
the poor fool
his beautiful head bare and like a jewel
frothed and muttered
now with prayers and now with bitter jibes
it is no new thing
the wounded wild goats eat it
aloof aloft alone
