Some say it happened:
day after Bowie died
something inherently erroneous
about our world
 
others said it was the day
on which the world shut down
you can’t deny those brutal days,
its minor adjustments —
 
washed away stains, where:
tendentious thoughts remain
how will war of pernicious
men — finally end
 
Blakes’ Jerusalem: no longer
pleasant pastures green:
more a brownish,
glowing burnt ember.
 
God would never see
ruins to Bethlehem,
for in his sight fallen
angels are flying drones —
 
for we would never lay
flowers on the grave –
for this tired and tried
land’s — stolen sunbird 
 
last night we dreamt
of the wings of Palestine 
not the bloodlust of ruins
that we see burning today. 

Matt Duggan won the Erbacce Prize for Poetry in 2015 with his first full-length collection Dystopia 38.10, and was winner of the Into the Void Poetry Prize in 2017. This poem is from a new collection Matt titled How To Reconstruct A Pleasure Dome In A World We No Longer Recognise.

Poetry submissions to thursdaypoems@gmail.com.