“Island Home” by Patricia Walsh

Living in a world of our own
Excited to belong on a long walk south
You and I versus the world together
Priceless uniform unity spreads wings
Travelling on spec to rebellious territory.

A multicoloured burnt offering rises above
The slack-assed happiness of a satisfied homestead
Voicing travel brochures to whoever’ll listen
Attenuating our names to mutual syllables
Flags on the street commanding ignorance.

Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.
Procrastinating worries is a necessary time
Picking at carrion like the crows do
Serving a purpose however lowly
Cleaning staff have a role to play too.

“Where did you steal this car from?”
An erratic adventure reaps its reward
Attracting raw attention out of hand
Details cleared , sent on our way
Not mentioning the naggin in the back seat.

One topic can start several books
Using stray comments to write columns
Exercising an unholy hour every day
Feeling better afterwards not a speciality
Giving energy not a sufficient excuse

Still water on the outside, unfit to drink
Poisonous agriculture queries our rights
To a world of our own, interlocked with concern
With GM crops and galloping pesticides
Burning favours given and received.

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