I nail my colours to this flag
So, here I stand
On the dank green of Parliament Square
Amid the liberal elite,
Who later you’ll see at the ballet,
Or in a field in Wales in May.
I stand resolutely with them,
With their representatives
Who shout tearful slogans,
Who call to mind the world wars,
Who remind us the future is for the young.
They eat their picnics,
Their vowels all so very round,
Their raincoats no less than Burberry,
Their EU flags all hand sewn.
‘Bollocks to Brexit’ stickers
Offered with a polite smile.
Lucas speaks, tears in her eyes,
Voice red raw.
Lammy rabble rouses,
Theresa May must go!
Heseltine tells us what nobody dared say:
Never, never, forget.
Instead, beware.
Later, though, I turn,
To find my way back;
Back to the bridge through a sea of bodies
So thick, so silent, so densely packed,
Respect weighing down the March air.
I turn, and there’s the sea, the tide that’s turning.
Back at the hotel
European staff see the slogan:
Put it to the People!
The see the European flag.
And they thank me.
I will nail my colours to this flag.
