Katyusha, Katyusha, // Shaft of shite
Francis Sedgemore, Friday 2 January 2009
As Madame Baroque says, it’s nice to see the Grauniad supporting poetry, but like my Hackney friend I’m not too sure about the offering of Sean O’Brien published in today’s edition of the paper. The poem was “written in response to the latest phase of conflict between Israel and Hamas”.
Katyusha, Katyusha,
Spear of desire,
Are there green pastures,
A brave desert rose,
Or must it be prison
With pillars of flame?
Apart from this being some of the most clichéd and meaningless verse I have ever read, it is in very bad taste given the reality of bodies, families and communities left in tatters by rockets, both Hamastani and Israeli. Human tragedy becomes sheer banality. How nice. Not.
Feed the writer! 
Friday 2 January 2009 at 23:46 UTC
When in fact it’s the other way roundm and banality has become tragedy. I think Sean missed a trick there.
Happy new year Francis!
Saturday 3 January 2009 at 00:18 UTC
Well then, let’s leave Sean to go chase his fucking tail.
And a happy new year to you too, dear Katy!
Saturday 3 January 2009 at 21:34 UTC
Could it be some sort of homage to Pinter, whose political poetry we will all miss?
Saturday 3 January 2009 at 21:41 UTC
Well it’s certainly adolescent, just as you described Pinter.
Sunday 4 January 2009 at 01:24 UTC
Boyo, fuck he’s gone. That is. The. End. Heads on poles. Sand wet. With blood. Yankee’s wet. Dreams.
Sunday 4 January 2009 at 21:08 UTC
Kalinka, Kalinka,
Spear of Destiny,
Pillars of Salt,
How green is my valley,
And is there still honey for tea?
Brave brave Sir Robin,
There’s a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu…
Monday 5 January 2009 at 10:14 UTC
This thread is turning into a poetry masterclass. Mr O’Brien could learn a thing or two here.