22 MARCH 1963, Page 26

Pig-bodied mole, I pull you out Stiffened with rage from

tail to snout With rage and terror in the light Wild to escape and wild to bite.

Your tail erect lends me the grip By which like meat I swing you up. Out of this lawn I'll have you gone. Trot for your skin. Your time's not done.

I am volcano, hurricane, Too blind a fury to explain.

Yet we are like. In fury, go.

What grip comes down I do not know.

SYDNEY IREMA leNfl