Some people say, If only these kids read more Shakespeare At home. Or even saw a production or two At The Globe. That, and maybe listening to a bit of Mozart and a trip to a gallery To worship at the temple of Art, Would make all the difference. Even Tate Modern would do, at a pinch. They deserve it, really. Culture, that is. It’s just not fair to abandon them To their parents, who were Abandoned in their turn. So we cannot blame them. Not really. Others, well meaning, no doubt, Talk of Stormzy and Assassin’s Creed Of Mice and Men and Game of Thrones As if they had the same worth. But everybody knows that proper culture must be Old and Hard, otherwise it does not count. It is not Culture with a capital C. It’s common sense. It’s alright for them. They’ve got their exams already. Missionaries in Africa did not agonise about their task to civilize, But set to work to bring light to the darkness. Not for them the liberal guilt that stalks us today Or the righteous anger of The Woke Now that Black Lives Matter. But in between, where people live, culture is imbibed Without thinking, like breathing in. Like air, we need it to survive. The air we breathe nurtures and sustains, whether its breeze stirs lush, clipped roses Or scatters crisp packets in a grimy dance. It is the same air. It is the same culture. It is ours, not theirs.