“They met with a bunch of migrants in Calais, they said they could all come to Britain”
I have seen a bunch of tulips bow in a sea of petals
and placed them in my wheelie bin on top of dead grass
but I’ve never seen a bunch of migrants where I live.
I have seen as a child polluted stars above Calais
and they still looked beautiful in the black lace sky
I heard the weavers used to sell them in bunches.
I have seen cancer grow in bunches on a friends breast
but never saw a bunch of migrants outside hospital
and when cancer waited at the gate they both left at will.
I have begged a bunch of lads not to kick my head in
and when they did I ripped bunches of condemned grass
that now houses bunches and bunches of refugees.
I have listened to a bunch of right honourable gentleman
call human beings by labels like my Ma used to iron in shirts,
but I was always more than my name, like bunches of migrants.