We stripped of majesty
Play loud with plastic money
Luminescent in its shock.
We stripped of honour
Crawl over balustrades,
Weep over travesties,
Place wreaths for rock stars,
Walk over bones and
Graffiti gravestones,
All the while knowing
That any semblance of perfection
Past was built on blood
And salt-peter scarred into
Dagger thrusts, shrapnel holes
And black-grimed lines on miner’s hands.
We stripped of peace
Long for imaginary fields
Green with impossible memory
Innocent of childhoods
Barren of barbed wire
And boys with camouflage hearts.
We sigh and build skyscrapers
Send astronauts to seek out
Eyrie holes; try to fly.