Now we watch as West Side Story
Becomes Night of the Living Dead
There’s no time for Morning Glory
Not since Sars got inside our head
We stand masked up at the bus stop,
Somehow still find the time to queue,
Before we shuffle to that shop
Where police serve the people’s stew.
Covid bulletins are long gone
The MPs don’t know what to do,
The whole world hums funeral songs
This corona ain’t fucking flu
At start of end of first lock down
We bathed in the light of false dawn
Virus deniers yelled cross town
We’re scam victims of fake news porn
Second waves crash on urban beach
Tsunami floods each chicken shed,
No more teachers are left to teach,
We’re now the West Side Living Dead.
Half past five in the red bedroom, 15th July 2020.