Rita Bradd

Stranded  in  the  Outflow

My home is humble, all that I’ve got
a refuge for family, all that I need
my goats and chickens, enough to feed
I am blessed

Steel for the bombs that scatter the Peace,
spatter the stars, blacken the night with blood
rubble shatters into flesh and bones
ashes to ashes, dust to dust

No fight, no boots on ground
just flight, my ears drone, drown
in the sound of death by blanked-out cowards
all I take, my golden family and some base metal
the bargaining chip

Steel is the boat, we cross the Med some drown
Steel are the walls with which we are met
Steel are the hearts that corale us 
kids in callous Calais
no bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover

All around a medley of tents
not Bedouin, not circus
not homes for rent, mushrooming
in the debris of humanity
hope and expectation

Steel are the tracks that cross my mind
Steel are the trains that glide down the lines
Steel the containers we strive to invade
with reckless stealth to evade
pepper spray, probings and poverty

I invoke you Isis, Greek Goddess
of health, marriage and wisdom
grant me fellowship, a throne, an ankh-or
in this strange sea in which I am driftwood
and my pride is beached in desert sands.

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