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.

Camden Queen

for amy winehouse 

She crashed through the bar,

Spilling words like discarded notes.

A star,

Bigger than her hair,

On the rebound from fame:

Fake lashes, fate-weary eyes,

As if they’d asked life for a loan.

Still walking tall

Despite all.

‘She hits people’, you said.

Headlines too.

Most nights.

Bodyguards there

For what she might do,

When love’s not enough
To reason why.

I thought she was going to zap us over the tapas,

But she just whispered “Hi.”

Munich

When the fog rolls in,
You can hardly see your feet.
You have to be there to remember.

I think of those kids
Every day of my life.
Heroes can’t atone
For what is  past.
You can’t undo time.


Growing old, I feel
Fate is always there
In the hope of each generation.

Some griefs can’t be shared.
We must bury our own.

Survival is never easy.