Adrian Mitchell: Poems 1 (Spring 1967) (original) (raw)

SON:

FATHER:

SON:
FATHER:

SON:

FATHER:

SON:
FATHER:

SON:

Make sure the black blind fits the window, Don’t let the light fly out. Where is the war tonight?
No, this is peacetime.
You are safely tucked up in England,
Sleep tight, happy dreams.
Listen, Daddy, are they ours or theirs?
They are owls, they are nobody’s
Responsibility. This is peace.
Today I lost a battle. I feel like mud.
Snuggle down, snuggle down,
Tomorrow you will win two battles.
Yes, and I will feel like mud.
Grow up, this is self-pitying hyper-ballocks.
Nobody is really, actually trying to
Literally kill us.
Yes they are, daddy, Yes they are.