Let me get this straight, back in the day
all people spoke the same language and built
a tower that reached up into the sky,

so God, that almighty buzz kill,
swiped it down like stacks of building blocks,
as omnipotent toddlers often will,

then, to stop any towers springing back,
he fractured language into many tongues
so that all building plans woud come unstuck.

Yet, prodding at the risen midday sun,
The Shard is almost completed despite
the builders from the fragmented nations,

They’re bang on schedule, on the job despite
their hotchpotch speil of Shona and Polish.
Their lunch hour cries of “Kurva!” “Dambe!” “Shit!”

are loud enough to make the wide sky blush.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. peter litton
    Apr 05, 2012 @ 23:56:12

    Your poetry always provokes thoughts…
    I like our new tower of Babel…it stands as a glass and steel metaphor for the qualities that make this city so endearing. It’s bold and brash and, most probably, pointless even though it does have a point. The people who dreamt it up were outrageous gamblers and speculative chancers. The architects who designed it had massive egos. The people who built it came from the four corners of the world, just like the Londoners who stare up at it. One day, a perfect sunset will be reflected from its thousands of glass panels and you and God will both go… Wow!!


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