Thursday, December 17, 2020

Socialist Sonnet No. 12

 Deal? No Deal? Bad Deal!

Narrow island in a turbulent sea

And islanders who think themselves ill matched

With the continent to which they’re attached

By bonds of geography and history.

Colour of the passport is of concern

It seems, blind pride when the flag is unfurled,

Rather than a clear vision of a world

Free for all, without boundaries to discern.


Surely time to look beyond Britannia,

See in common weal what capital lacks,

The country’s built on bent and beaten black backs

Triangulated out from Africa.


In Europe or out, the sovereign nation

Remains the keystone of exploitation.



No comments: