Christians and Muslims in Britain
The rain pours down upon another May.
We joke about it here in London. Tom,
Dick and Harry cast eyes about the grey
Streets, past the asphalt, looking for the bomb
Some Islamist is carrying on his back,
Or Irish Protestant fanatic would
Explode, brightly orange in his attack
Against the English who certainly should
Not have abandoned Ireland to the Papes.
A dead religion and a living one
Are threats. It turns out that religions’ shapes
Are much the same, animated or Un-
Dead, if, unconscious like Christ’s in Britain
Or like Mohammad’s, rabidly bitten.