The dasyatis bayonet

 The pompous are up at it again and we can´t stain them back
juice all apple and pale and by the book without a hack
what empire did you start and forget to finish yet still overestimative?
Can you see Out of the isles as you came sun striking outnumbering the natives
and then you lot come down here to retire and visit your far off relatives

Pale and blonde and full of your allergies inside and out
Is this what it amounts to the war cry shout?
Is this what old Georgie meant, southern royal fans?
Churchill´s dream all stiff and flexing over the new islands?

We´ll build a few hundred  hospices and facilities for the overaged
that can´t stomach the old english metropoles or country cages
Your son woods scared of the wasp, so it made it´s way into his shirt
The shrieks and screams sent the children into hysterical laughter

He ran out of the classroom kicking up a storm as the wasp burned a hole in his uniform
stinging at random like a knife attack on the vicar godfearing
The bough pierced by the unseen reef sailors woefully despairing
Young woods plunged into the dirty colony throwback uncaring

Like a clean fabric into a sewer of filth
Was this an example of stoic churchill fortitude?
union jack still hustling the southern winds 
No different to the sails that changed the sting ray forever