A Journey Towards No Place 

Exodus to escape the heat 

No words can express the grief 

An entire family in a tiny boat

But even on land we’re drowning to keep afloat 

Everyone knows that xenophobes are wrong 

Too much information blurs the lines of where this came from 

Blood for oil and soil and no rain 

Now only pain remains these days 

Barely enough aid home or away 

What can 1 poem really say

Temperatures rising and this war ain’t cold

New millennium but this war is old 

Britain, France and the colonial States 

Russia wants to Communate 

Empire, empire Trumped UK

Ferage mirage the enemy

The sun never sets but there’s no space 

A journey towards no place 

Depleted uranium and burning oil fields 

This pound of flesh is dearly bought with Damascus steel

Psychogeographically reversed Trojan horse

With courses for horses there is little remorse 

Exodus to escape the heat 

No words can express the grief

Some of my older poems are included in the end of my book Feral Consciousness: Deconstruction Of The Modern Myth And Return To The Woods, which is available through Little Black Cart

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