The Flint Core

The old diplomat said, ‘Es una gente muy buena’,
as I accepted a dab of cocaine from the little case
he carried like a snuff box. ‘Les muestran el Nilo
and they get there.’
                                 I thought of the Legion
Britanica, whose bayonet charges had turned the tide
of two battles, won them a plaque of honour
on the Independence Memorial: veterans
of the Napoleonic Wars, volunteering abroad
to escape hunger at home; and then of
the Peterloo Massacre in that same year,
Hussars charging a crowd gathered
to demand parliamentary reform.

Hunger gave rise to Captain Swing,
in whose name ricks were burned
and threshing machines broken.
...