The standoff is startling
pale-faced, clean-shaven
as patient as snow
on the boot of Ukraine
Meanwhile, bones grow in babies
floors dirty themselves
muttered grumbles repeat
between broomstick and brain
Men are ranged in steep banks
as though cliffs ploughing on
to raise slow-cresting mountains
against foreign terrain
But at home, the plates sit
crusted with rice and cheese
the washing needs taking in
safely out of the rain
Whispered terrors of war
thread through emails and towns
ignite testosterone
fan a wildfire chain
But the people still pee
move their bowels most days
dead leaves, soap and hair
still encumber good drains
That momentous decision
of conflict or peace
raises all of our stakes
queries what is humane
Yet food and clean water
still need to be sought
foraged, stolen or bought
hunted, fished, caught and slain
Ambulances are readied
tanks and great submarines
great causes flush hot
in the president’s vein
While his mistress is ironing
silk slips that he gave,
asks the housewife next-door
what works best on wine stains
Rallied shouts float above roof-
tops: “Fight for your rights!”
though the war’s still a theory,
immanent the campaign
Housewives beat their rugs
water aubergine plants
beetles creep inside bottles
herds of goats block the lane
The diplomats clinch it:
troops retire to barracks
blank and brotherless for bread
and soup to soften pride’s pain
Cotton sheets heave and snap
tangled children’s hair is brushed
trumpets polished, glasses too
doors opened and closed
cats, dogs, rabbits fed
compost bins evacuated
trees and roses are still pruned
bowls of oranges arranged
the Names of God mentioned as stars
set into violet dawns
planets drift the way they always do
deaf to all of mankind’s bluffs
while here on earth the grass grows green
and green it will remain