The bard celebrates two other fine practitioners of the art, and laments a lost brewer
Duty-Free at City Airport
Michelle Madsen
Dear passenger of the air
Before you board your plane
And jet off to a glamorous destination
For business or for pleasure
Consider the place you are leaving
No, not the office
Or the shiny towers of the city
Or your lovely, designer-clad home
(Unless you live under the runway)
Because I am talking about the streets around you
The pavement and alleys of Newham
You wouldn't know where you were by the name
City of London, serving the important and busy
An airport for the city and of the city
But not even close to being in the city
Instead the jets scream over the streets of Poplar
And wail over Beckton
The air growing thick with fumes
Dear passenger
Consider the cost of ill-conceived convenience
An executive portal with invisible walls
A million mental miles away from the communities that surround it
Consider not the growth and expansion of a luxury terminus
Benefitting the lucky few
But a re-purposing of land in this
Home-stretched city
To create a Newham that is a destination in itself
And not a car park for planes
Consider, for once
Not speedy-boarding
A last dash shop for sunglasses
But perhaps
The convenience and comfort of others
And let London breathe.
RUTH AYLETT recommends that this mixture of memoir, diary and poetry by a young Gazan writer be read as widely as possible
by Clare Evans
by Widad Nabi
From nuclear bomb storage in the 1950s to surveillance flights over Gaza today, the Cyprus base has enabled seven decades of machinations so heinous that Starmer once blurted out ‘we can’t tell the world’ what goes on there, writes NUVPREET KALRA


