Poem 52

Wat Tyler, leader of the Peasants’ Revolt, ended up with his head on a pike on London Bridge after the 14 year old Richard II turned the moment of Wat’s murder into a victory for himself …

( I like the freewheeling form of this … Orangutan Arms, woolly fireworks, the double meaning of show me round the town … I thought I’d made up draggle but turns out it’s a real word … )

Like Wat

I woke up this morning feeling like Wat Tyler
that it's a long way to walk
     just to die

I've got this idea for a band called Wat Tyler
 playing live insurrection Mondays through Thursday
at the Orangutan Arms

rang in sick with a touch of the Wat Tylers
when I'd rather be the boy king
    full of colossal white words
riding out on the field and getting the crowd going
getting the caps flying
   like woolly fireworks …

           go home go home
           you've seen the outskirts of a beautiful city
           you've seen a bit of blood that wasn't yours
           you've spoken to the King
                                        (hurrah)
           now take your starvation back

I feel like Wat Tyler
permanently on the end of a quick squidge
   with something sharp
doomed to trust the wrong man
                                    to see them all
go draggling back home again and be so happy
to go with them if these soldiers hadn't made
        arrangements
to show me round the town