Fainting in Coyles
An occasional letter from the Heart of Euroville
Visitors:


Monday, April 07, 2003  

Sod Andrew Motion

Here's a poem that I believe hits how people are dealing with the war in th UK.

Babylon & Beans

Your mum’s come, help her with the bags, kid.

Thank you very much indeed, this push towards
the defining moment, the final battle…

Mum, what we’re eating tonight, can I have
beans & chips…please mum…


No alternative, the strategic prize, a skirmish
before the real, we enter a critical phase…

Ask your dad, his turn tonight, it’s my night
out, you know that…


…with rules of engagement, we must hold hearts
and minds, using anti missile missiles, keeping
heads above the parapet, switching from hard to
soft hats….you understand…

Listen, can’t you just let me watch this stuff, it’s
war, you know, I mean Jack from next door’s out
there, isn’t he?


every conflict is unique, we’re on probation, in a war
of liberation and with Buster the army’s sniffer-dog
we can maintain momentum, evoking Koranic verses
in growing confidence…

What you mean war, my granddad was four years
in that nazi war wasn’t he…? Anyways, the kid’s
hungry, you agreed to Tuesday nights, you promised…


…a systematic sweep, a psychological impact with
a real sense of disgust, a genuine outrage…or synthetic,
we must sustain public opinion until every last element
of resistance…

Dad, look! What they’re doing…is that real…Dad!

Trigger-happy with toned-down weaponry, a skirmish before
the real, a sweep, with human shields, an adrenalin-fuelled
fight…

…’course it’s real son, they’re really killing, it’s not a
cowboy film, you know


Yes, a critical phase with these controversial cluster bombs
mending fences diplomatically, every conflict is unique…

Here you two, got some crisps from Tesco’s, keep the
wolves from the door.


No alternative, the baby hasn’t seen her father yet,we know
they’re using death squads and the martyrs shall be received
into heaven…

Did you get the beer, sweet…?

How can we all make a better life with seventeen hundred
sorties a day?

What you think, set for the night, aren’t you, all this war stuff,
give us a break.


A strategic prize, killed or captured the Nebuchadnezzar and
Medina Brigades, elite forces, in benign areas…

We got to support our boys, haven’t we…I mean…you know…

The anger level is increasing, so much evidence, waiving
their weapons in unison…

Dad, can we have beans & chips like last night…dad. please…

Thank you very much indeed, the push towards the defining
moment, the final…

I’m off then, mind he does his homework, gets his supper,
in bed by ten latest, here, kid give us a kiss, don’t watch
all that stuff, your eyes’ll drop out.


We can all work together with shock ‘n awe…shoot ‘n scoot
can’t we…?

* * *
Nicholas Rawson
Fool’s Day, 2003.
Isle of Tiree

posted by Eliab | 2:37 pm
«expat express»

«#Blogging Brits?»

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