British Summertime

Left off-shore by previous tides
& adrift behind a mask of cliffs –
redoubtable & other labels – as
if different [as if our differences
are good]/ Scuzzy pissed tribes
trip over bitter-sweet cocktails –
a mix – cruel shyness & loathly
arrogance gather outside pubs –
knocked back threethen off to
our match
– foul origins boil &
spill across crowded pavements
as fists find their answers with a
night’s sweated dizziness & piss
dries quick on wooden benches/
By daybreak there is no hope or
glory on our lorded landing strip
[we were all sold short by Brexit]