Chicken Kiev

 Old man lies in bed, sleepless,

Listening to the radio voices

That, late at night, can lull him to sleep;

Talking of cricket matches, or bringing

Stories, music and recipes from far-off places.

But the radio voices aren’t comforting tonight,

The Old man turns over and tries to sleep

Because nightmares might be better

Than listening again

To voices of desperation and

defiance in the face of fear.

He’s heard them before

Calling from the Czech lands

As the tanks rolled in.

Young man went out to shout

In the street outside the Russian embassy.

He can’t even do that now.

So he just has to listen

To the ingredients describing the recipe

For Chicken Kiev.

Missing mice

 I miss the mice I murdered,

Now my flat feels flat and

The silence makes me feel alone.

No more scurrying in dark corners,

I’m the only one at home.

But I am the sole oligarch here,

I had to protect my realm,

If you shit amidst my shopping

Death will be your doom.

You tried to eat my porridge oats

So I laid poison pills for your rodent throats

You ate them and you died.

I won’t lie I never cried.

But the silence makes me feel alone.