‘You come here when people die, why?’ ‘Even then, they’re not really here’.
Grenfell somewheres are confronting a troupe of professional anywheres
Of these, the son of the manse maintains such decorum as he can muster
Naïve in the matter of socks and ties, but not daft enough to expect ‘more tea, vicar?’
Wiser still – or cynical, the locals have seen our sort before:
Reporting that doesn’t come, then drops in, drives by
Shoots and chews up its reportees, leaves them for brushing aside.
Alongside ‘deportees’ and ‘detainees’,
How many have we fetched and fixed in stories that we nailed?
So let no one be surprised, if reporters are arraigned with officials to be jailed
When they tell us we’re not wanted: no dogs, no ministers, no journalists.