T’were I to Hang Around With Ezra Pound

T’were I to hang around
With Ezra Pound
There'd be a sound 
From an ancestral ground
Faded faces frowned
Fascist fighters resound
Forget this hound
Reject that mound
Of Pound you found
But art tis not bound
By politics that surround
Nor by evil crowned
It's not so profound
People are clowned
Earthly around
Culturally interwound
Easily drowned