Come Flee With Me

We could clear off
but is ‘elsewhere’ better?
Its sun might be brighter
its enriching rain wetter
(thirst-quenchingly so)
it’s private o
-zone layer thicker
its air cleaner
its grass greener
its tree-lined square quaint
its shop fronts smelling of fresh paint,
but leaving here ain’t
necessarily the answer.
Perhaps a cruel puritanical streak
runs fully-clothed
through its straight-laced and well-lit streets.
Maybe its priests preach
stoning you to death if you’re gay
and removing  your tongue
if you’ve got something to say
about it. (Lesser ‘crimes’
punishable by amputation!).
And what about its education?
Possibly it teaches young people
that such ‘punishments’ are ok.

So look, no, really look,
- isn’t our grass far greener than we thought.
Are not our lives a little less fraught
than we were imagining.
What do you say? Shall we go?
Or shall we stay?