The run of history in a thick soup of rain


The brown coloured condiment in a clear bottle


The inexpensive aftershave and give away shampoo


Two pairs of runners on a canvas chair


An empty tin
unironed shirts
and traffic sounds

rattling in the moist breeze on a historic evening
of words surrendering in the mouths of politicians
in sombre dress

grey hair dyed dark
and tasteful ties with moderate knots

are the co-ordinates of sincerity
in the eradication of war


Telly dressed leaders

- consigned to the history
of a passionate cause
lining pockets of co-operation in
the equality of flags and parades -

become a jumble of yesterday's news
holding the chips for tommorow's game

of cold coiled reality, torqued to a level
of trust constantly tied, tested and untethered
by events which depart and return with the simplistic
consistency of two tribes lying in wait for a sign of belief

in each other's right to live on a land rich in the conflicting songs
of a patriot dead who died for truth and lies put into their heads
through centuries of silent wrongs and bloodthirsty rights.