Sardines & exotics – goal for the shoal
¶ 1
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The train carriage is jam packed, we’re like sardines in a tin
canned commuters, the illuminati, noses stuck into mini computers;
But whoever went fishing, did so in exotic waters
The South China Seas, the Baltic Lakes, the Middle Eastern wadis
The African watering holes, Caribbean archipelagoes
Australasian reefs, liberty land lagoons;
And then there’s lil ‘ol me
trawled from ‘next-stop-america’ west coast atlantic waves
all Connemara complexion and freckles
with Dad’s east end cockney countenance
a heady mix, with Blue blood coursing through my veins;
A fandom shared by many,
with differing backgrounds, different skins, diverse mindsets.
We unite under the one banner, CFC
but I’m angling for contrition from the passengers
who’d rather push out
where I’d pull in
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