This is a piece I started writing after Syriza’s election victory in Greece, and finished off recently.


Light begins to penetrate long gathered clouds
And the grins of austere clowns are turned upside down.
Near ten years lost,
On a very unmerry-go-round,
and round, and round.
Choking people beneath rolls of invisible rotting belly-fat

It pleases me to see their malevolent confidence replaced, if only momentarily
With collapsing stone walls,
and cellophane wrapped armani ties.
Shifting eyes and flabbergasted incompetence.
But what happens once they regain their balance?
When they try to lay their smarted hands on the controls again.

Is the stage being set for a fate like Allende’s
with generals,
and Chicago Boys waiting in the wings?
Will attack dogs like those unleashed
not so many years ago, by Churchill
wreak heinous violence?


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