Next Door

Summer is loudest, their windows fly open,

voices vault fences and enter our house.

Screaming at children, beer bottles broken,

cursing and knocking each other about.

They clamour behind a Union Jack,

hammered in during the Brexit campaign;

now they’ve been given their country back,

a few days ago they flew off  to Spain.

All the neighbours rejoiced in their absence

and some wag had a striking idea,

raised a new flag bearing the caption

Refugees Would Be Most Welcome Here.