Open up the camp sites,
Clean up your glamping gear,
Forget those foreign flights,
Perhaps until next year.
Repeat twenties Zugzwang,
We’re stuck here on board ship,
Here comes second big bang,
End of Premiership,
Mindful of the danger,
End games are hard to play,
Not over till over,
The finish? Hard to say.
I am getting weaker,
My night is drawing in.
Watch the high street open,
Drink up another gin,
Party through the summer,
The gigs, the games, the beers,
Go dance on moonlit beach,
Forget long covid fears.
Next winter get ready,
Pale rider is still here.
Test kits, trace apps, vaccines,
All of the patching up,
Not enough to stop it,
Whilst experts on TV,
Mass of contradictions,
Scare the shit out of me.
Glad I’ve got a garden,
Somewhere to escape to,
Mend the rabbit fences,
Plant beans, courgettes and fruit.
Boris launches moonshot,
We’re pulling up ivy.

Harry Rogers, In the Yellow Room, 6th April 2021.


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