Sympathy, Magic, Palaver

April 25, 2020

Fervidly round in a ring we go

One step go up the stairs; then venting, savour prayers

Slam a hand on the bannister; set three short drops

Decanted out from a canister, of PG Tips, the slops

Make sure they cover over a housebred mouses splayed back foot

In area; follow-through so various shows instantiate

As those commended by a lamp-alembic mainline news

All blessed by wry projections, shadows come from SAGE Yahoos

This human form aproaching is a fugitive prognosis

Is hosting, maybe calamity, the unknown worm,

Tis a perfect Panorama show, apotheosis;

Know you, and be advised: you see him? - cross the road

Dear wares; dear facemask, garlic, sprigs of serried ivy

O, keep me from this ague’s plaugey melancholy

I of wide berth, do keep a wide berth, I’m delicate

Who’s giving way; you blink, clash clangs the shopping trolley..

Festooned with tawdry rags tied like a wishing tree

Fresh sanitised; the stuff that takes vestigal smell away

Of Other People, the don’t know whos, come piddling along

Two-metres queued to get their wines and whinings done

As a lifeless conga danced at wakes they muddle some

The draw is the store – done get inside – hello, you’ve won!

And all must have prizes comestibles for every one

A sergeant new promoted sits here at a shotgun checkout

Pips on here sleeve her perspex shield and body vest

The customer lines for service, waits elastic roundels

Thought’s parked a moment, dreams of metered traffic signs

Operative magic rises, flows through stout high-tension gloves

Casting out demon germs to wail and gnash their servile teeth

In a germy sore Gehenna where disinfection never stops -

Sing holy praises, serenade our vacant science twits!

Step back, avaunt, brush not a hair before this tampering chum

Whose casual-wear raditation-suit irradiates his spin

Not to be messed with, one of the best bred: a signifier

A fancied chanticlere who dights to figurehead the herd

A VIP with a rosary stoop and condescending health

Esteems his visitation to the service Front

Come down from London chartered seating on special train;

A media shot - for the 6 o’clock spot - then off again

These are our days of folly; falsehood’s rapt inamorata

Days of our desperate courtship with a burst balloon disaster