the foundations of oppression can't be plucked up without the anger of a multitude

Loving our neighbours

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Camped on a West Wales hillside,

listening to the sea roll in,
we are pitched next to Christians, who
keep their children sitting nicely
and not talking with their mouths full
and saying please and thankyou
and grace before meals;

and stop them being silly
when they make jokes about willies.

We burn their kindling
and eat their toasted marshmellow,
knock our tent pegs in with their hammer,
talk about the weather
and love our choice of neighbour.

Sam Berkson, July 2011

Written by angrysampoetry

September 21, 2011 at 3:09 pm

Posted in Poems, Text

Tagged with , ,

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