Verdure and Survive

 

Naïve I might be

But can someone tell me

Why we can’t plant

Herbs on the verges

Fruit trees on the streets

Spelt in the brown belt

Alliums in the valleys?

Um

 

I mean. If we do it

Nature will renew it

Radish in the parish

Sage behind the stage

Chilli in the alley

Oranges for the foragers

Er

 

Turn the allotments

Into car parks

And the car parks

Into allotments

And maybe we’d find

That made a lot more sense

Growing mushrooms and incense

In the bits that were dark

Turn it round.

Till the ground.

 

The forces could lead it

Throw their guns down and seed it

Tubers on manoeuvres

Not gunfire, but samphire

No guards, just gourds

Grow cress in the mess

Hall

 

The house of Lords

Could be useful for once:

Justified by salsify

Ancient but efficient

From debate to plate

And rose hip replace

Ments.

 

There’s nothing to stop us

I don’t think, because

We all need to eat

So make edible streets

Grow some rainbow-leaf chard

On these tired boulevards

We won’t be here forever:

Can we just make it better?

 

Naïve I might be

But can someone tell me

Why this world is obsessed

With financial ‘success’?

 

Why we’re ground to the bone

For economic ‘growth’?

And when did we decide

To put fairness aside?

 

'Naïve’s just a word

That makes ‘freedom’ absurd

In the mouth of the liars

So we need to plant fires.