Novichok In Salisbury Poem by Edwin Hopper

Homeless soldiers in the vaulting,
under Sainsbury in the Maltings,
where Skripal parked his gas filled car,
saw him walk to Bishops Mill bar.

So why do you think I picked Salisbury?
to rub your nose in your failed history?
This pot holed heart of your friendless nation,
with no real working police station.

Didn't know you'd turned on CCTV.
But not even that will prove it was me.
Cathedral Magna Carta, old Stonehenge.
Will never deal with on line revenge.

Your cuts went too far, you'll never regain.
Post Brexit defences are cellophane.
Stop me? There's more horses in your ranks,
than helicopters or modern tanks.

Your leaders close factories, they favour banks,
and wallow in my oligarchs thanks.
My gravy train has them weak and corrupt.
Your housing shortage is bound to erupt.

This managed decline in a Wiltshire town,
stokes NHS fears at Porton Down.
You're out of EU, your heads on my block.
I am strong. I dare use Novichok.