Poem for Jo Cox
‘Young men and women [will] gather to revel with music created by White artists and composers, but never to undulate or jerk to negroid rhythms of any kind. It means pop music without rap overtones and art galleries without Jewish-inspired ugliness and sickness. It means films in which the appearance of any non-White face on the screen is a sure sign that what’s being shown is either archival newsreels, foreign news, or scientific footage – or an historical drama about the bad, old days’ - from the National Alliance website.
Jo in her red dress,
Jo by her barge,
a tug of war, two
children, without her.
In Birstall. Neo-death,
Jo on the floor, abstract.
Also not abstract:
A woman. For change,
for love, her red legacy.
Her woodland eyes,
the setting sun.
Parties, acronyms:
Violence. Jo in her
jacket with the white
tipping. Jo in Darfur,
working, open-wide.
A voice for the torn,
their eyes full of
brickdust. Hope,
the aching flame.
Rest well. Hurt by
stupidity, small-blinkered
alliance. Rejection of
beauty- dead lost
on the wrong side of peace.
