I wash his hands that in the brightness they will shine. We have a parent called the earth. To be equal to the littlest thing alive, While all the swarming stars move silent through The merest flower . The face with all the draining future left blank. . . Those smug saints, whether of church or Stalin, Can get off the back of my people, and stay off.
Somebody is supposed to be fighting for somebody. . .
And Lenin is terribly silent, terribly silent and dead. Advertisement - Please read the policies on our front page before going to a linked site Thank you for your visit.