England is by many
objective measures
a terrible country
ruled by terrible people
with a terrible past
and a terrifying future,
and I support England.
None of my forebears
were born in England,
and I support England.
When I watch the news
or follow England games abroad
or read about politics
I often feel utterly
disconnected from this country,
and I support England.
It was an Englishman
who snarled at me
on the street last month
while I was taking
my daughter to nursery:
Fuck off Chinaman,
take your Covid patient with you.
Nevertheless, I support England.
The supermarket is selling
something called “meatless burgers”.
There are women on Match of the Day.
You hear vague noises about “defunding the police”.
You suspect, on some sinister level,
that something you love is being taken away
And so amid this landscape
of shifting plates and cultural norms,
you have a choice: you can get with the programme
or you can stand your ground and fight.
I am not one of you
and you are not one of us.
But for this month,
for these 90 minutes,
for these sunlit days in June and July,
let’s pretend we are.
Let’s build a house together
and watch it fall.
Let’s pick apart Southgate’s 3-4-3
and debate the merits of Jack Grealish.
Let’s elate and commiserate together.
The past is the past
and the future is the future.
From My cross to bear, June 2021.
Verbatim Poetry 