Monday, 31 August 2015

Last song from the back of the van

Razor wire 
And border fence
Electronic installation 
No dream deals 
At immigration 
And pass control 
Where guards  patrol 
To  staunch  the  mass-ive 

Tonight a prayer 
At 7pm 
With dignitaries 
And a cardinal
And all the bells 
Throughout the land
Will ring  
In sympathy -

Though it's too late 
For you and me 

They who'd rise 
Against the prodigy 
Or wish to live in peace
Must flee
With home advantage gone 
Oh! dear old Uncle Sam 
Play it  again 
Play it again 

What have you done? 
What have they done?

Who will drive the taxi now?
Who will bake the pizza?

Who will play the red nose clown?
And who will pay the soldier?

Who will write the poetry
And who will heed the words?


  1. Replies
    1. Thank you. 50 km queues on the border now. Incredible scenes. Hungarians have withdrawn police from Budapest Station. People are cramming onto the trains hoping to get to Germany, the only EU country refusing to obey the Dublin Agreement that asylum seekers have to seek asylum at the first country in the EU they come to, for example 160,000 in Greece, which is plainly a ludicrous situation.

  2. I listened to Ezra Pound poems on the radio this afternoon. I will do a study of him. I will some more later about your words here.

    1. Pat at Weaver of Grass is a big Pound fan.


Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.