You’re up!

You’re up, Europe!
Where now, your shifting sands?
Disparate lands of desperate despots
Turn half-blind, half-arsed eye
to a painful cry from the desert
The djins are loose again tonight

A sad sight, as from Assad you recoil
Turning, checking who burns Jerusalem’s midnight oil
The turmoil you create, Europe!
Driven on by degenerate offspring
that sprang forth on blood soaked unsprung mattress
from the hole of a harlot who gave birth in handcuffs

You’re up, Europe!
Not incapable; reluctant, nervous
Still suffering post-Cold War depression
Having missed too many counselling sessions
Incontinent continent, you’re in danger
of falling out of love with kindness to strangers

You’re up, Europe!
You’re up a creek
plenty of paddles, no oarsmen
You’re up to your neck
horses, saddles, no horsemen
You’re up, Europe!
You’re up
Did Guernica teach you nothing?

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