Bluebirds Over by Mike Bell Poem 1829

Your bed whiffs of miserable sex [& urine’s drip-drip]/ I’ll shove you away once your ill Queen is dead/

I am sailing to Sealand where our border is an irregular confusion – [there they don’t crave our House

of Windsor – Edward has no work but earns nicely – lucky him]/ This country 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 weight of greed] – bluebirds do not live on these islands of myths & sung lies