Edward lived in Hoxton
boxed in
Stitching boots
digging roots
Labouring his load
on the neighbouring road
to new arrivals
migrated for survival
from Poland, from Russia
to the holy crush of London
Under the same sky
came together, made ties
meeting in the streets
Tars and bars and beats
tasting gifts and eats
More than metropolitan
becoming cosmopolitan
His son returned from service
newly-wed and nervous
Bootless, lootless
his search for work
too often fruitless
Shifting and hawking
from Winchester to York
Then over the border
taking any quarters
Footloose and suitless
using his astuteness
to make sure that he kept a step
ahead of destituteness
Kept on going
moved and mixed
from the sticks
to the red bricks
That’s life for many –
following the penny
moving and mingling
no chance of lingering
So how come
there are some
who claim to be our champions
dampening our unity
holding up community
as counterposed to those whose life goes
this way? They say
that they are the other
not a sister or a brother
Not our sort by birth
salt of a different earth
Surely something wrong with them –
rootless cosmopolitan
If you’ve travelled
you can’t be trusted
your cover’s busted
Roma and Jews
migrants seeking refuge
Cultured, creative
don’t count as a native
Mixed-up, exotic
not so patriotic
Inevitably your fidelity
lies elsewhere
You might be here
but your heart is there
Disloyal to this soil
Useless and clueless
betrayed by your newness
Truth is you’re rootless
‘Rootless cosmopolitan’ –
a label with a record
chequered with rejection
persecution
even execution
Noose around the throat
useful as a scapegoat
A term accused by tyranny
a germ upon our history
Leave it there
let it sleep
bury it deep
Against the ruthless authoritarian
the inhumanitarian
and their toothless following
Be on the side of the
rootless cosmopolitan
