Majority

Travelling uphill, my 
gears crunch. We forget
how yesterday felt.
The dog licks my hand,
empathic, going from second
to nothing, engine straining.

The gulls dodging
in front of the wheels
clawing, screeching, ragged
for scraps. The fan belt
sounds like it’s slipping.
Hadrian’s Wall tightening.
Britain’s body turning blue.

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