England sent tap tap
and tap tap tap, and the hill
answered back.
There were cannons
in bunkers, mines in the narrows,
the Will to Power
periscoping up
in the harbour. Those battlements
rust and whistle
there still, but splashes
of spray paint lighten the gloom,
and will for a while
if we let the vandals
roam, confettiing the concrete
with condoms, trading
in pills that alter
their vista through the gun slits
of history. The vandals
are young and make
use of the ruins. Stand back.
Thank them for that.