Look in a mirror
Not down south
That’s where you’ll find it
SOMME AND THEN SOME
A hundred years pass
Little has been learnt
LEST WE FORGET
No evil people
Only very messed up ones
A part of ourselves
We often forget that though
And hold my hand up also
Fortunately there is an easy (and better*) alternative.
A TWIST ON BENEFICENCE
“These damned Rep…tiles!
God rest their souls,” say I.
My single simple condition?
That they be dead and gone first.
JET PLANE WARBIRDS
Splitting our quiet skies
Oh when will you return home?
Be gone, fey daughters of mad Zeus
Be done with twirling your bloody fingers
Fondling their hard-won garlands demanded
And then – oh but of course – soon discarded
Gladiators meet, mete out death, make meat
Reborn as gliadioli – erect, sword-shaped
Leaves and spikes of flowers – overblown
In a superfluity of colour, so over fulsome
Be gone, be gone, we beseech thee
Leave us in peace, in peace
In blessed peace