Submissions by Alfie_Shoyger

Have you heard the rumour going round?
They say that all these truck attacks we get,
these elbow-scattering bomb-blasts that abound,
these prawns or pawns that (quote) “slip through the net”,
that (quote) “were not believed to be a threat”,
are waved through by the secret-service line,
are prodded forward so the people whine,
“Just save us from this! Do what you must do!
Destroy our freedoms, that’s completely fine!”
Don’t worry though. It’s probably not true.

It’s probably just lamppost-lickers crowned
with tin-foil hats who say...

And off we go, along the lane,
the roses bleeding, gushing red
across the left side of my brain
as terriers chase tennis balls
into a crashing, rippling pond.
What’s that? Some kind of avant-garde
distorted Easter Island statue.
I wonder what inspired that.
Some pine trees with their trunks all knobbly.
Two girls, one pink, one mauve, on scooters.
Kneepad-clad, zigzagging skaters.
“Dobry.” Zigzag. Skate. “Dzien Dobry.”

Grey concrete drowns in orange, green,
cyan, maroon, magenta, yellow.
Hopscotch....

Imagine this scenario. For centuries, millennia,                          
your ancestors have ploughed the fields of Britain, milking many a                            
moocow, pulling many a lever, scrabbling at many a coalface,                            
been frogmarched off with bayonet, rifle, sword, to stop the whole place                              
from caving in, as they were told by those who owned the silos,                            
who fattened up the empires, whipped the natives, shot the rhinos.                              
          ...