It will not be long now…

It will not be long now
until dandelions have strangled
the black ground beneath them
and no traces remain
save for the props and the poison
filling up the cavernous
belly of the carcass
slain by a fortyfaced dragon
bent on revenge.

It will not be long now
until nobody is left
who remembers the batons,
the charge of the Clydesdales,
the breaking of faces,
the making up of statements
and the smashing of hope.

It’s a long road downhill
from there until here,
from strength in a union
to begging for help
on your nil-hour contract.

From pickets and pigs
and men of millstone grit
to a country where even
police stations are sold off.

It will not be long now
until, battered and lonely,
we have allofus forgotten
how to even ask questions.

We are all still mining,
only now we are picking
holes in the hull
that keeps us barely afloat.

Playing Blame Thy Neighbour
as the saltwater scours
its way around the finery
we cannot make good.

And the higher the water,
the faster we scramble
upon each other’s shoulders
for a better vantage point.

Folklore: a dreamed place
where the past isn't real
and we tell eachother tales
of fantastical happenings
that no one really believes.


Harry Gallagher



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