Wilderspool Causeway

I’ve paid for that already – check the manifest.
I’m not going through it all again.
The light was unbelievable, it really was,
the sun washed out behind desert mists.
You can see the Sahara from Binfield, lifted sands
in the hazy freshness of quiet lanes in early March,
summer’s first draft, the planets in rare alignment
for the cardinal signs symbolising war or world orders
realigning leagues of presidential evil
for the runaway invincible with an attitude
of ‘Epic Fury’ and other bad film titles.

You feel you have to shift the needle
knowing no-one will remember you
if you’re anywhere near diplomacy’s weaknesses
while the rest of us can only hope one day
your sins aren’t washed away – check the manifest
for grieving and blaspheming against the Spirit.