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Twenty One Addresses |
Threatening form of bold type and delineated boxes,
collage of bureaucratic paternal oversight
where misdemeanours may be revealed
and the eye of the law winks lazily at you
as if to say we'll get you, it's only a matter of time.
Twenty one addresses in fifty years gives
a nomadic adventure to the vetting application,
hauls me over the spiked rails of each location
where hurt knocked on every open door
and guilt spelt out my post code.
I feel the cold breath of paranoia on my hand
as I confess milestones of my journey from birthplace
to now, that seek to uncover the unchecked wrongs
the given commissions and omissions of crime,
the short change of deprivation, the hustled clamouring.
Will Lucy Browne squeal on me or the Walker twins
break their self-imposed amnesty of silence?
And will love which fragranced these places
stand up in my defence of culpable negligence
of those who deserved better and received less.
copyright 2015
john
saunders |
