Sparsiones erint

I wrote this a few days ago. The title really was the first Latin phrase i learnt, for some reason.

Suddenly, I remembered it. It really took me aback, sent me a little chill.

So I wrote this immediately.

SPARSIONES ERINT

Sparsiones erint were the first words that I learnt

In the language of the cruellest empire then to blight the earth.

Sparsiones erint was the least that they could say

To keep the plebs from riots on a bloody, sunny day.

Panem et circenses were the satirists’ words that stuck

To show that Roman nobles gave enough – just - of a fuck

To stop the city burning with the rage of the oppressed;

“Your fate’s blanket mistreatment, but we will mistreat you best”.

Sparsiones non erant in Grenfell Tower that night -

“Sprinklers, oh no sprinklers, no, the borough’s budget’s tight.”

Twenty centuries’ progress – “it looks wonderful from here,

Hail this bright, nay, veritably sparkling veneer.

Flee the madding crowd in your redecorated Babel –

We’ve noted your complaints but we’re quite sure it’s strong and stable.”

Progress is just cladding, it’s a venal, vile word,

A silencer, a smiled threat to the now – and then - unheard.