‘Be sand not oil in the world’s machine’
recommended Günter Eich. I admire
Luddites, objectors, all who sabotage
the cogs and gears of a lying culture.
Long exile from the hall of thane or hetman
leaves the bardlings’ sweet-tooth unappeased,
tuning the vocal chords to croon and charm
the world in coca-cola harmony.
But who’s this under the silken billboards
furtive, prosecutable and rash?
– damned flyposter, telltail brush and pail of glue
rucking the folds of an old mackintosh.
Send Letters To:
London Review of Books,
28 Little Russell Street
London, WC1A 2HN
Please include name, address, and a telephone number.