“A neurosis shared is a neurosis squared”

“Popular delusions and the madness of crowds”

Catch a spider, wriggle - pull his legs off!

A torture ball, a mutilation helplessly alive

Waiting-in, agitated, for the postman to arrive,

Indolently, an implicated house-guest

Stokers on TV heap hyperbolic flames and fire

We will survive

Cornered and sauna-ed, one’s mind profiteroles

Clusters up fluffy cream and moisty air, supposes

The lostness, compostness, when the last shop finally closes

Freshness in a garden sings a scent of roses

Free-feeling bees, fat moist, ride and soliloquise,

Turn bright encomia, hung on learn éd men’s deliberations

A liquid finch declares it holiday

Buzz-buzz runs, flutter-flutter skims, the air-waves nerves

The talk that chalks up bother, sets about surmise

Somewhere in this show comperes tour pantomime?

Supplying thin contexture, tweak the time’s mistakes.

A turn for every worm’s concerns remanufactured

By a chiefly incumbent safe supervisory medical officer

And a pan-galactic masked masseur of specialised statistics

And a comic jolly politician mumbling on his plinth

Prognosticators

Distressing even the angels in their turtle tendernesses

Making flattering calls on hospitals and dab-hand washes

That Heaven itself no haven sets for even the favoured just

Anon goes on the gloves, then wait your turn for love

Be closed, do not make free - free is a dangerous spark

Pursue him, you ingenues, he will work with you a work

Better a rigid bludgeon punch home into that goodnight

The letter before the spirit, before all valour, flight

Custom makes cowards of us all, concocts in shadows

Temerity strikes implicitly, and rakes the haunted shade

Pinchers and prickers and Barbary apes, a crew befit All Hallows

In a dugout without a ladder – where’s a hand to hold?