1821: Trooping of Colours

There’s a thuggery
in our cheap blood
[it binds in days of
sluggishness]/ We
clamoured hard in
playground years/
Grown men – beer-
barrel thick – throw
old taunts & inked
fists/ Nazi salutes
poked in Winston’s
shadow show their
hand/ These days
these days of fear –
are torn [as binary
parts] – barriers set
& hoardings placed
for pathetic battles
[whilst Elizabeth &
Phillip grace a tent
& face toy soldiers]

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