And I heard it on radio 4,
that smug glibness that attaches itself to nothing and asks us to believe in.






Their will now be a break in the radio,
while the first missiles shake.

You are to think of the courage,
of the fence cutters and the fearless picnickers,
that crawled through mud to expose the missiles of mass destruction.

In clown suits, dog yellow collars and razor dyed hair,
that made the sun jealous.

Not inevitable yet,
their is always time to pick the heath mushrooms,
in the dawn when the missiles have gone.

Just testing to see if you were still there,
have a care their is more than fear in the air.

 
~