‘The News’ – A Spoken Word Poem

by Miri Simmons

Young girl, slashed face, stands in rubble. Next. Teen boy, load and point, more rubble. Next. Young man, child in arms, running through rubble. Next. Families, possessions on backs, fleeing from rubble. Next. Head coverings sold in markets, head coverings lie in rubble. Next. Suited men. Conference chamber. United Nations. Pointed fingers. Talking blame. Russian airstrikes. MP asserts it’s our fault. Boris says ‘don’t worry we fired the rockets’. Pan back to babies being rushed from incubators in Allepo’s makeshift hospital. Another bomb. More blame. More pointing fingers. Pan back. House of commons. Leather seats. Mr Speaker. No rubble here. MP says ‘we understand’. No rubble here. Only leather seats.

Terrorism! Terrorism! Vote for Brexit to prevent the Terrorism! No more immigrants or there’ll be more terrorism! No more immigrants they can stay in Syria, racked with terror, terrorism is only our problem when it terrorises the West. Pictures flash again across the screen. Young girl. Teen boy. Young man. More rubble. Conference chamber. Pointing fingers. Men in suits assign the blood and rubble and fleeing children into their pre-written, carefully deliberated diction. Allot a few hours to hold a meeting. Go home. No rubble there. One last pan back to more rubble. Hold for 5 seconds. Studio. Suit and tie. Apologise. All we have time for. Plenty more to fit in an hour.

Next up: the strike on Southern rail