If we look back

On this momentous day, I wanted to concentrate on making things, not breaking things. That included working on this poem, which I actually started before the EU Referendum. It's one of the very rare poems I've written that is best rendered as a picture. 

It channels the bit of Kenneth Patchen that lives in me somewhere, I think. As such it's rather more apocalyptic than I generally feel, but with a glimmer of hope, in that it ends with the word wake. (As John Lydon once said, before he turned buttery, 'there is no future in England's dreaming'.)