Bluebirds Overby Mike BellPoem 1829
Your bed whiffs of miserable sex[& urine’s drip-drip]/ I’ll shove youaway once your ill Queen is dead/
I am sailing to Sealand where ourborder is an irregular confusion –[there they don’t crave our House
of Windsor – Edward has no workbut earns nicely – lucky him]/ Thiscountry stinks of supremacist talk
from unapologetic men & women/Superior sneers are easy masks &filter their words/ Dame V is dead
& white cliffs fall [with our weightof greed] – bluebirds do not live onthese islands of myths & sung lies
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