To see him in Sainsbury’s, you wouldn’t think
His forebears sailed with Drake,
Or died for scraps of land
An empire plundered.
For them, the industrial age
Was the slow turning of a grubby page.
Now, in the information dawn,
His ignorance grows
To meet him.
The ancestors that crowd each face
Mirror his sense of doubt,
Knowing that heroes nowadays
Must wait their turn at the check-out.
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