Leo Varadkar with then British Prime Minister Theresa May in Brussels, Belgium on September 17, 2018
My poem ‘Island’ in response to Sunday’s episode of Reeling In The Years. A major theme that year was the continuation of Theresa May’s Brexit stalemate.
(after Wislawa Szymborska)
Where men with shiny scalps
fight for the right to dye
hair they no longer have
any colour they want.
Here, garbage can by magicked
into its opposite by the mere act
of attaching to it the word: Great.
Proud nation that pays
redundant assembly-line operatives
to sell photo-shopped versions of itself
to tourists from its former colonies.
Raised voices in its cathedral city tea rooms.
So shrill a cup gets chipped
in the course of the argument
and a scone is left behind on the plate.
The roses around its cottage gates try to forget.
But, elsewhere, the dead factory remembers.
And the disgraced estate agent tries to secure the door
on what was once British Home Stores
but can’t fathom the lock.