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Poem for Germany

Deutschland, Deutschland

über the moon

you won’t be sober

any time soon.

 

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the knock

Should have been your boy

back from the game

bag of fish and chips

grin as wide as the Mersey

drunk on youth and sunshine 

still living every pass shot tackle

as he settles down in front of the box

him and the old man each with a can

to watch it all over on Match Of The Day.

 

Instead, it was coppers

neighbours, friends, the sad-eyed priest

it was sorry for your...

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