EPITAPH FOR AN INVADER

Your great grandfather rode through Texas,
Raping copper Mexican girls and stealing horses
Until he settled down with Mary Stonehill and set up house
With oak furniture and God Bless Our Home.
Your grandfather landed in Santiago de Cuba,
Saw the Spaniards defeated, and took home
The waft of rum and a dusky nostalgia of brown girls.
Your father, a peaceful man,
Only paid the wages of twelve youths in Guatemala.
True to your kind,
You took it upon yourself to invade Cuba in autumn, 1962.
Today you fertilise the cotton trees.