Tea Party at the End of Empire

We smashed china cups, saucers,

sugar bowls, plates, teapots

on slabs of paved-over lawn –

ripped apart bodies of teabags,

scattered their unholy remains

amongst the splintered finery –

out of plastic kettles, we sloshed

hot water, drenched the mess

in pretend, ritual sterilisation –

and then we boogied, in the latest

footwear, on our cemetery site –

boozed up, music blaring from

shiny, postmodern sound devices.