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The devil dons his mask and casts our children from the land with promises purloined from the nightmares of the dead The devil sheds his skin walks the dark sequestered streets as we worship and adore his glory all unbound The devil stakes his claim to pitch his shadow on the sea while we collect his rent from the safety of the shore The devil takes his due with an unforgiving hand more practised than restrained and lays his burden down
1. I wrote ‘The Devil Slakes His Thirst’ after my daughter returned from the refugee camp ‘The Jungle’ near Calais.
2. The poem appears in Reuben Woolley’s online magazine ‘i am not a silent poet’ here.
Copyright © 2017 Lindsay Oliver