In a packed hall adorned with the glories of an old empire,
I savour the menthol and eucalyptus of a Fisherman's Friend lozenge.
They were the favourite of my brother, when he was thirteen and I was ten.
This is the old empire I love to recall.
I glory in the ancient images of dinner at five and football on the steep streets.
I memorialise this history.
The minister stands to thank us all for being here.
I'm a charlatan, I do not belong,
and I'm not here, thank god.
I doubt I ever will be.

Anyway, regardless,
Time move us all along.