To ban a Niqab, by Antony Owen

I am not a silent poet

In Wetherspoons, men talk to her breasts and ask them questions,
this woman has green thorny eyes like a flower exploding into bloom yet –
he talks to her breasts and asks them where they work and that they are gorgeous.

Let’s talk about her eyes some more and only the eyes and all the things she has seen.
A year ago, her Mother took her last breath in them and was held there in water.
let’s talk about how the moon over Mill Street and how it lit them up.

Outside the butchers, a man shouts terrorist to a woman with a name in a Niqab,
this woman has hazel eyes draped in night black like the moon in stanza two.
He asks her questions, face exploding rose red, a Brexit rose in bloom.

Let’s talk about her veil, focus on the blindfold that English gents from stanza three…

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