Heavy hangs
the age of occupation
over the romantic head.

Who will now be greater
than the sabre-toothed tiger
and preserve the divine proportion
of a game of chess?

Who will sit
in his mind
and scan
the planet
as a small island?

Who will remember
that when Osiris
is at 12
on the dial
and the invention
of surveying
is at 6,
it's Egypt?

Who will be left
to smell
the pine
and eucalpytus
and make
a theme-head
impersonate a god?