Failed State

Sometimes I feel like a Failed State

ringed by impassable mountains,

snow-bound or sun-blasted, good only for

one thing which is now exhausted, the

mines closed, the factories boarded up, the

currency debased and worthless,with

prissy NGO’s up my arse, a

lack of basic sanitation, the smell

creeping up valleys to warn the neighbours to

steer clear, the ‘phones cut off,

loans called in, knockings on the door and a

kind of heaving in the chest of

despair and freedom.

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