A year ago if somebody had said AstraZeneca

I would have thought

South African tennis player, German sports car

the hot AK47 toting freedom fighter

that was my imaginary, Nazi slaughtering, girlfriend

in a war I was never in


Even the smugly lensed boffins in Oxford

dipping their Hobnobs, hypothesising

over the powerfully entitled thrust of

Boris Johnson, their sly Megan phantasies

would have calculated a blank.


I was lucky to get it

walked into the no name pharmacy

between anonymous suburbs

on an early spring day


for a grumpy old white man like me, to

stab me with a needle

then mass stab a line of other old white dudes

perhaps thinking, I hope, like me,


we had given another chance, this entitlement

will give us time to understand, what it is to live.


Alan Hill

Alan Hill is the former Poet Laureate of the small City of New Westminster in western Canada. He came to Canada in 2005 after meeting his Vietnamese- Canadian wife to be whilst they were both working in Botswana.

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