Skip to main content

Saturday, 2 May, 2020

How quickly, then, I find myself in May,
For surely it was still March just last week?
The fire was on, the trees were bare and bleak,
I worked from home and still received full pay.
And it felt good to be alone all day
Without the need to listen or to speak
To customers. And I could even sneak
A quick nap in to pass the hours away.
But now this freedom starts to seem a bore;
I miss the customary workplace chatter,
And find I'm either hyper or subdued.
Both going to bed and getting up's a chore,
I'm thinking less and less, and getting fatter;
Unravelling on my island, like Decoud.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Thursday, 7 May, 2020

It's a striking thing about life today How keen we are to be indignant, pontificate. When something bad happens we can't wait To get on Facebook or Twitter and join the fray. We can't rest until we've had our say, Booming in the Voice of Reason our great Insights, and slapping down the fools we hate With logic and hilarious memes. We slay Them endlessly, but somehow they don't die. In fact, they have the cheek to claim they've won And we're the fools! Neither side will admit That reason's not the issue. I can see why: If reason can't get the job done We might need a harsher way to deal with it.
Post a Comment
Read more

Tuesday, 12 May, 2020

Some four thousand new cases every day, And round about three hundred people die. Is that a lot? Of course we want to say "One death's too many!" Yeah, but that's a lie. We've always been prepared to tolerate Some death to get the things we have today. Wide fields of needless graves facilitate The anxious, well-fed lives we while away. How many might be added to the bill? How many can we drop into the ground Before we say "Enough!" and find the will To turn our current practices around? Who knows? But still, I think we can assert We won't be helped by crap like "Stay alert".
Post a Comment
Read more

Monday, 11 May, 2020

When you've fallen off, shush. Reconnect. Slowly sinking in, familiar, strange. Familiar books like faces. Voices out of range. Faces whispering. Indirect. Calm like company, trees recollect. Calm like change Settled in the pickle jar. Colours rearrange. Windows reflect. Between the in-breath and the out-breath, the pause. The oiled hinge facilitates the door. A hum which hardly registers as a sound. A lull between effect and cause. The tide relents, retreating from the shore, Releasing the drowned.
Post a Comment
Read more