Poem of the Week: ‘Irreducible Minimum’ by Bruce McRae

3rd Place
‘Jihadi Blackberries’ by Andy Brown

The four grey Herons were on the other side,

perched like praying pastors in a wild Western

bearing grave witness to the limitless bravery

given graciously by nature’s knowing nurture

my purple and black stained hands reminded

me of Broadbury Road police station where

fingerprints were taken, DNA swabbed, I was

given five hours of their questioning company

and in return I gratefully gave them nothing

walking by the river when I was first attracted,

beguiled by their unspoken promise, surprised

at their intensity of offering but realising that,

as ever, what was good and wished for just had

to turn bad and so it did, they did, again and again,

once more, insatiable, sermons of hate preached

inclusion and acceptance yet disguised misguided

messages wormed words for my digestive delight

how will I ever forget the cheap Sainsbury’s Basics Cottage

Pie that with four gulps of a can’t-let-you-damage-yourself

plastic spoon, sustenance received, interrogation resumed,

tape recorder droned on, on, always on, whirring supposed

Aristotelian logic I love the smell of Napalm in the morning!

pinned down by relentless barrage from frisky fresh fully

fundamentalist jihadi opponents who knew precisely how they

wanted me to respond to their assured assault, they showed me no

mercy, determined to lay succulent bodies on the line; suicide bomb

carnage, black flash, red tease, exploding groups of ten, collateral damage

tested, tasted, surrounded, from the air, by my feet, north to south, east to west

as riverside carnage unfolded a family of cyclists paid homage to my courage but

I would not be beaten and then it suddenly came to me, in a spurt of knowingness, a

crash of consciousness that posed the question to my inner self, it was so obvious that I

enjoyed eating those pleading blackberries but would that be the same for a racist, if so why?

I cannot wipe stains off me, they are always there, reminding me, may not be seen

but are always sensed, I know they are there by how you react; forever and a

day, final amen, to an inn of the sixth happiness; I am dead, my sins gone

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