Today, I’m well.
Yes.
Good.
I’m good,
I should say.
God?
God, no!
Good God!
Good.
Up-welling of wellness.
Bow tied:
A bow-tie-kind-of-day day.
Sun furtive.
Won’t be long.
Shouldn’t expect she’ll be long.
Yes, she.
Ephemeral.
Resplendent.
Sheer she-ness.
Just a Walkers crisp of a bit longer.
It is possible, I might add,
She’ll appear a fraction different
To what one can reasonably be expected to remember.
Good!
I’m good.
That is how it is said, in these parts, isn’t it?
Are you good?
Are you…
Competent?
Up to the task, I mean.
Fit to fly.
Work-ready.
Which sort?
Wearing odd socks, again.
Accentuate the good.
Try to.
Left and right; or the other way around:
Right and left.
Or could be both… fancy that!
Cream and chocolate, hey, superb!
Today is a wooly-hat-kind-of-a-day day, is it not?
Prepare for the worst and hope for the best.
Lest there be gales.
What? No! Disaster!
Now, wouldn’t that be…
Wouldn’t that scupper things? Do you think not?
I love my wooly hat.
He’s got a name, you know.
Ru-pert.
Stitched with love.
Pompom-topped.
So warm, it is.
Ready for jaunts.
With Rupert.
Up Horsenden Hill.
Too hot, soon.
Best to toss it in the bushes.
-------
Perhaps I am under-dressed?
Am I?
Hard to know.
I’ll wear my bow tie again.
Yes, I’ll wear my bow tie when, that is to say, Assuming
The rules permit it.
God permits us
To revel a bit. Kick back.
Do you think God likes to laugh?
God, grant me the gift to laugh.
-------
Oh,
Now,
Did you hear that?
Heating broken,
Not a peep.
Closed valve cylinder, limited warranty,
Manual unfathomable.
But,
No viable option.
‘Northfields Community Library Welcomes You.’
The toilets better be warm!
I watched a wonderful production of Samuel Beckett's 'Happy Days' before Christmas and this poem, I think, has that feel. I've tried to root it in my local area and capture something of the absurdity of conformity to abstract 'rules' that seems to be increasingly contentious and divisive in this Covid pandemonium
