#1873 - every nation is a bad idea

 

1873

6.46

15.ii.25

every nation is a bad idea

 

take mine

or you could leave it

 

that paraphernalia

stealing a march

 

there’s observation for a doctrine

gutters lead to tank

 

it’s all of us together

for the hate spew and the harm

 

typically corpse pile

time defying

‘heroes’ we’ll later say

now statue still

for pigeon perch

someone cleans the shit off

but never the president king

unless of course it’s

christ for the day

with the cameras

 

they talk themselves up by way of religion

all these things are the same

 

there’s a country hidden under ours

and under that

 

there’s one buried just where we sing

 

nation is a collection of habits

these colours make a flag

a coin, a dollar floats

often hard to tell them apart

there’s a system of exchange

or they fight it out in a ring

 

this gets us breathless

easily offended

 

dress up the infants in the cot

the uniform of the team

 

every nation is a butcher blue tattoo

we’ll later have to remove

 

they imagine themselves eternities

 

they dole out here

‘no other way, no other choice’

 

a kind of peekaboo might

right or wrong

eyes locked shut

coming

ready or not

 

 

 

 

previous crack at this idea: 

1429

4.333

30.xi.23

every nation is a bad idea

 

take yours

take mine, for instance

 

how brave

how full of fire and foe

 

comes wrapped in a tune

with a coin to go round

with a flag to cover the breeze

 

every nation

so secret safe

 

bundle of lie

right or wrong

 

all these laws

 

so wonderfully other each nation is

and yet they’re all the same

 

each depends on its tomb

and more unknown to make

 

into the breach!

some say future

 

take down the old empire and treaty

 

you have to imagine it too

hold heart in hand

mine, yours

 

keep on

tear up

salute

 

nostalgia for all the never was

and where we weren’t

 

think family

despatch the boys to the front

 

drop a few bombs

and feel good

 

ah, nation!

 

what would we do without?

where would we be?

who’d pay?

 

and some will say ‘reality’

some will say I’m dreaming

 

‘the national’

it’s almost the name of a race

but not quite

and

better than any, my own

 

each little eternity is love divested

has to have come from somewhere still

 

then shall we say the mouths of babes?

 

nation innate, incarnate

statuesque

a tableau of the whole demesne

from go to woe as well

 

once kingdom

now subdued

the little death machine – a state

 

as ancient in authority

as unexceptional

 

clock strikes so one expires

collect them like matchbox football cards

 

what were we thinking?

question won’t arise

 

country’s where we all belong

 

if only we each would love our place

nor spread the doom belonging

 

every nation is a bad idea

 

nation’s a bad idea