Gareth Farmer

Rise to Order

for Ben


             Rational, these isles tumble under rain and pleasant brisks
from abroad, clamming in via networks semi-conducive and
compelling. Extreme concern expands and worstens the hearths
of a country balancing smarter socialism with surveil-lances perked,
becoming an edgy parade of loaned lines and quick-ripened truncheons.
Militants survey definitions rising out from the abstract,
prick-pocked map, pawn-shifting mortal threats whilst hit-
costs vitiate a legacy and decisions wince with recognition.
Opposition and opposing views provide fiscal family pains;
budget and fathom cyclic numbers as efficiency-
savings unravel in the rubbish piling on the street corners.
             As ever, concrete comes to the rescue, after which fossils claim
future word bodies, imprinted by aid handing out medicaments.
It always happens whilst pilgrims insouciantly stroll, wrists
tied away from their body like he’s fishing for compliments.
It’s a victory, as predicted, and no more de-spiriting for that,
where clouds of doubt cleanse and the hard-fought fireworks
& champagne sings overheads, showering a crowd’s crowns
with grim assignation: keep me secure with statistics, O Lord.
Maws gape for places, placards, placebos with which the country
churns futures lining edu-queues, miserable and knowing it.