Three poems part two

The Laws of Family Migration

The Venn diagram of transcultural love
has no full intersections.

A spouse is not a spouse but is a potentially
non economically active burden on the State

Hearts become coins become cherries

in a fruit machine. There are no

winning lines, nothing adds up. Love

conquers nothing, counts for nothing.

Meanwhile your child

is free to live in any country,

with nappy sack on his back

he roams the world,

untethered by parents or papers.

You knew freedom once,

but did not appreciate it. 

 

Market town

 

felt like everywhere and nowhere

always and forever 

the wallpaper of our lives

ignored mostly

then watched for hyper-real details

 

we knew the dead wieght

of Tuesday half day closing

the smell of tarmac

in August heat haze shimmer

 

and the faces

wrinkled and ancient at forty-five

familiar with their

grey hair, headscarves

and flat caps

 

we knew the ritual crush

of jumble sales, the thrill of finding

a maroon utility jacket

or a marcassite brooch

 

the Monday auction on the stones

where dead rabbits were displayed 

next to living ones in cages

and pigeon breasts glowed

llike silk frocks

 

and the fish and chip shop

down rocky lane

where a yellowed paper clipping told

of the man who came to town

and ate everything

 

large haddock,  sausage and a pie

all the chips, the butter-cross, the church

the chapel the grammar school 

the shops, leaving only empty spaces

for the wind to whistle through

Family Migration Laws

◄ Three poems

Satellite of Love ►

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