Across The Border

across the border


my nose chequerboard dented, squashed against wire,
fingers curled, a baby, clinging to mother's warmth, tight,
I will not lose my place this time,
I will not be jostled away:
only a few more metres to freedom.

I can wait- and wait some more

thorns of razorwire- do they hate me that much?
So, worthless, they cut and slice me, a lump of corralled meat.



you pace up and down
the other side
glaring black eyes
traceless black gloves
tightlaced black boots
black thoughts fingering
the trigger on your gun



I will stay here, hold on here, shuffle forward,
I may collapse, I might die
but better to glimpse lush grass of freedom
breathe blue sky of openness
than turn and trudge into
sandstorm chaos.



I lied


it's the same mud, glued and cloyed,
the same oil puddles retching
massed clouds in rainbows,
no trees- dead ashen funeral pyres
where we wriggled our blistered toes and held out
our chapped fingers in hopeless gestures.
no sophisticated city streets, no bright lights:

a churned up path to somewhere else.