It’s time now to rise up and be counted.
Old fusty academics must go to the town square
Chain themselves to the railings be confronted
Just like in the old days ideals laid bare.
No one is reading their books only themselves.
The time is over for grumbling to one another,
Our forefathers would have rolled up their sleeves
To avoid a return to the gulag and gas chamber.
Fellow poets, hard won inches are being lost in miles
While you are counting your Facebook smiles.
So here we go again in the post-crash parade
The crosshairs focused on a perceived villain
By those who only know how to invade,
Who never knew the baby’s cry in vain,
Who never knew the post-war toil,
Or the smell of blood spilt on their own soil
Ger Reidy has published three collections of poetry and a book of short stories.
