Boris is bouncing
all over the field
with the power
he now yields
But he’ll soon
run into a wall
finding himself
‘behind the eight ball’
when he messes with Ireland

The ‘Real IRA’
may save the day
They blew Mountbatten
out of his boat
and into the sea
for messing
with history
I wonder
if  Jacob and Boris
can see
the tempting targets
they are
in British aristocracy

The puzzle becoming more muddled
some pieces hiding under the others
intuition not helping
confusion telling

High anxiety’s refrain
is in the air
and our breath has stopped
us in a stare

Paralysis and impotence
guard the gates
against
spontaneous response

How where when?
Will it all end?
Question marks abound
and surround the event

I will tease you out
from where you hide
under reasons tainted with pride
behind the walls built to conceal
all of the things
we do not reveal

If I can find the end of the thread
then follow the cotton
I’ll apprehend
something of value
to barter in the market
where they sell
trinkets
and old clothes

We will come to conclusions
that serve us both
for one perhaps
an unutterable oath
for the other
a manic
depressive episode

We flexed our muscles
monopolizing spice
and other things
We were not fair
we were not nice

Setting trends
to get some more
finding pirates
to win our wars

But the weight of the world
fell back on us
Now we find
they're treasonous

We climbed the highest hill
and then descended
Now we find we've been
'unfriended'

Climb on my shoulders
breathe some air
While you're up there
say a prayer

I'll bear your weight
a little while
just another
little trial

I'll be fair
as fair as I can
standing here
your anchorman

In the end
sugar and spice
is the trend
and everything nice

I thought I was sure
about
the nearness
of the shelter
but I was not

When the flare
flew up in the air
I knew I was
a long way from there

Then
when I froze
bullets flew
all around
and I fell
down to the ground

When they sent up flares
into the air
the light was too bright
for those on the ground

Instead of running for shelter
from the whistling bombs
we could only freeze like trees
in the dirt we were standing on

Theirs was a sure-fire
strategy
We were seen
then blown to smitherenes