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Thursday, 19 March 2020

Nobody believed it, and the dancing resumed (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)


This holiday of universal equality 
clattered like a coin and rolled 
through the crowd and nobody 
believed it-dancing resumed
like a hoarse siren bearing
the pure and impure division where 
walls are prisons to company carrying death 
put the interest of the nation first get
to courting it doesn’t matter no body lives 
in Hampstead anyway, the local hospital
prefecture appeared calmly tranquil 
in barricade tape you now feel the 
strategy verbatim is a kiss that would
carry death over the abandoned streets and
further like a wide mandatory forecast angel
the general absence of envy of the present 
in relation to the future we trouble ourselves with.

Your hamstrings shrink, your hands cringe
over crock you fall apart repeatedly-
at least you're armed
with two knuckle dusters, 
a cricket bat and spam before warm days
any SHTF situation explodes onto the streets
this is known and contamination 
is the darkest rhombus under this
floral boarder of the garden
the army built a large mud oven 
to cook the biggest Lord Woolton pie 
ever which will be evenly distributed 
throughout the respective messes and 
eaten before the Ark, all new members 
will have to give up their birthright 
by removing the welcome mat
for the foreseeable 
future bodies end the story now
is in need to shoot the birds 
out of the sky as contactless effete 
remits to downed rhythm thank air
again in some sheltered silent fluid they
hope all will return in breathless 
wait its precious but tasteless seed
we will eat again this great package