A C*VID POEM 4 U
By: Alexis Dubus
About The Poem
One of those writing exercises that just flowed from my pen. The restriction allowed me to really select the words I needed to use, and I hope also gives a sense of being confined to certain rules during lockdown. I’d like to thank poetic licence, abbreviations and the letter Y.
Man grabs bat snack,
Aaargh, SARS flashback!
Bar charts arc fast,
“Ah, that can’t last.”
Wash hands madly,
Tap arms sadly,
Bag that pasta,
Masks at ASDA.
Army grandad walks many yards in backyard,
Ball sang, chart smash, RAF fly past.
Pharma fast-tracks labs’
Grand stabs at vaxx jabs,
’Nam acts hard and fast,
Many flap and stay aghast.
Nasty Party rank as always,
Crafty pacts at stagnant hallways,
Back-stabs and back-pats,
Backchat naff as MAGA hats.
Pass that flag! Hark, a scandal,
Call a gallant man a vandal.
Stay calm, scrap plans,
Stack cans, call grans,
Spark fag, chat crap, scan WhatsApp,
Park walk, clap staff, wank, bath, nap.
Fettered, we emerged ever less,
Energy ebbed, we grew depressed.
Every week stemmed the egress,
Stretched legs, checked steps.
Tethered experts extended the length,
Every new reg lessened strength,
NHS stretched, events ended,
New elements emerged, help pended.
Testy, we were settled, never nesty.
Get tested? Chest feels chesty.
Tested neg, phew! Then
Seven weeks flew by, ten…
Strewth Melbs, pretty hefty,
NZ settled, vetted deftly.
Fever swept the left,
Renewed energy, excess heft,
The better elderly gent elected,
Vexed bellend energy rejected.
Yet, ever-present petty jesters festered,
Messy scenes emerged, decency retested.
Levels levelled then crept,
It’s thriving, still killing,
Pyrrhic wins pity-instilling.
Nitwits still dismiss it,
Whilst kids kiss, illicit.
“Sick? Ill? It’s mild innit?”
“Right! This fright? Sling it!”
Right-wing shills inhibit civil rights,
Whilst dismissing stymying girls in vigils,
Smirking, flirting with glib sigils,
Lifting lids inhibiting grim spirits,
Finding civility’s limits.
This isn’t civilising,
It’s nihilism rising,
A distinct sign,
Insipid philistinism in vivid ink,
It isn’t simply iffy,
“Miss isn’t British, siding with Isis!”
Still, “Big ship drifts in, sticks – crisis!”
With simplistic wit I’m ripping the piss
Shilling my witticisms – hit, miss.
I’m still idling,
In my district,
In this city’s blitz,
Dimly-lit within brick,
4) NOV & ON…
Oh no, lockdown forty-two,
Johnson’s horror show won’t do.
O blond Tory show pony,
Lord of morons, corny crony.
Dom looks for odd job lot,
Now Dom’s off, Moonshot shot,
Polls show drop, not so strong,
Long bold words don’t work for long.
So, stock bombs, boost troops,
Woo donors, to old boys’ whoops.
Sod bloody poor folks’ job loss,
Bow to BoJo, posho mob boss,
Cocky fox of London coop.
World on loop now: lockdown, stop,
Bloc blocks lots of doctors’ stocks,
Blow on blow on blow to follow,
Got to go on, look to tomorrow.
Sport’s off for now, boo!
Schools lock doors too.
Stocks of Zoom shoot to roof,
No snogs for boys, so porn – woof woof!
Got rocks off, so now for food,
Condo floor don’t look so good.
Cookbook or food from scooty co?
B.O.G.O.F? OK! Go!
Good God, got so stocky,
Lots of boozy months, no shocky,
Work from oblong box of sorrow.
Jog now?.. Now?.. Tomorrow.
Soggy months too long to roost,
Broody for non-solo boost,
TV now so so-so, oh boy,
No mood for books – so long, Tolstoy.
Mojo blows hot, now so cold,
Long old slog, world on hold.
UN runs truly glum sums:
Flush suburbs vs. slums.
Trump sulks, blurts untruths, cucky.
Dumb US gun nuts, unlucky!
Musty UK, rut-stuck,
Must snub smug schmuck,
Plus dump fusty, unjust U-turn thugs.
Gutsy putsch? Usurp duds!
NHS scrubs up, just,
Hurt, cut but unbust.
Up, up, thump drums,
Up, up, lustful thrums,
Flush ugly, hurtful guff,
Trust such stuff,
Must sum up…
Luxury’s blurb sucks:
“Buy fun, spunk bucks!”
Just bluff, busk,
Sun-up – dusk,
Hug.Return To Map
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