Life Lines

Great Ormond Street, 1987

You don’t recall, being so young,

The spectre of each cot:

Wires straggling up to screens

That told some secret story;

The hurried smiles,

Eyes grim with care,

In your first moments;

Willing science to mend

What nature had left unfinished.

Technology can’t heal

The hours

That fear for breath.

Pacing that ward,

We listened for the note

Of lives so small,

Now amplified

To fill a room:

The message of each heart

Defining a universe. 

Riot On

They’ve been rioting for centuries,

Though no one listens;

Britannia has gone to sleep.

Looting is the new shopping,

Tonight, at least.

A city, for once, united

To get what it can take.

This nation of shoplifters,

Napoleon might have said,

Where even those who’ve made it

Are on the make:

While London is burning
At the stake.