Question Time

So they finally conceded
And gave him a platform
Well after all it’s a democracy
And so they should

I sat engrossed one of nine million
Anticipating toxic bile and puss
To slaver from gnarled lips
Like a veracious bull-terrier on heat
But he spoke in measured tones
And raised his voice only to be
Heard over the contiguous rancour

His opportunity to quote policy
Was suppressed with each attempt
By a dissenting panel
Who ingratiated themselves with the
Hostile audience by means of contrived
Political correctness, in premeditated
Self-ennobling gestures,

His glass eye, his hook if you like
Engendered my sympathy
As they pursued their assault
As rabid bloodhounds do
With the scent of blood in their nostrils

In defence and defiance
His oratory entwined threads
Of Churchill and Spitfires
And ancestors who fought for these shores
Offering similar assurances
As that given to us by the few
One summer in 1940

Then it ended and he left as he arrived
Under protection from protests and threats
A true minority now

(Pause)

The following day I walked the dog
Through my part of Britain’s green and pleasant
My mind an echo of historic apologies
And illogical motivation

I considered the animal
A pedigree King Charles Cavalier
Pure bred, clean, and obedient
It padded quietly alongside
Beautifully mottled white and brown
Loyal and loving
It had been much easier to train
Than the mongrels I had previously owned

Then suddenly a burst of sound
Shattered my tapering thoughts
A cacophony of screams and laughter
Reverberating from the wall beyond
A sound I’d heard several times before
And in so many different places

I turned the corner slowly
Past brickwork and shrub
Until I fashioned upon this
Origin of happy noise
And ordered the dog to sit
Then leant against the school gates
Staring into the playground
For ages…shivering