2 tablespoons general anxiety

1 large worry, finely diced

¾ cup internet memes

3 unfinished books, opened facedown on already cluttered surface

2 heaping teaspoons anger that I keep making too-watery iced coffee

1 dash missing my friends

8 large handfuls shame that i’m not being productive enough, roughly chopped

1 pinch writing everyday being harder than i’d anticipated

14oz thinly veiled joy of being trapped inside

57lb tiktoks that are entertaining but also rotting my brain, peeled

107g fear that i’ll never be great at anything, thoroughly rinsed and drained

72kg reliance on my boyfriend’s affection to substantiate my own sense of self worth

0 knowledge of how recipes are written for garnish

salt to taste

Husken, Wendy:
Ever trendy,
Always knitting
Something fitting.

Hudson, Simon
Working on his rhyming.
Not got it right yet,
Graphics is a better bet.

A Littlefair called Gail,
Often goes beyond the pale.
A canny Glesga lass,
Always as bold as brass.

That massive hulk Chris Bygott
Would make a ****** good pirate.
But he loves table tennis and fishing:
For success he’s always wishing.
He hasn’t done too bad,
Done even better than Dad.

Paul Butters

© PB 9\4\2020.

End of it all

End of it all?

The end of it all

What end of it all!?

The man had a fall!
That end of it all

The man had a fall?
What man had a fall?

The man down the hall
That man had a fall

The man down the hall?
What man down the hall?

The man down the hall
Who works at the mall
He was an oddball
The man had a fall
Down there he is sprawled

Down there he is sprawled
Down where is he sprawled?

Down where is he sprawled?
At the end of the hall
The end with the stairs
as i recall

Oh that man down the hall
He WAS an oddball
...Oh ****! The man's had a fall!!!
Have the police been called?

It's year 2020
And it suddenly seems
That COVID-19 is
Now running the streets

He flew in from China
Off the back of a bat
He danced round in circles,
Eventually crashed...

The details are jaded
In fact nobody cares
How he transferred from bat
To the Human flesh

He's sparked a pandemic
And he's drawn to all those
Who ignore all warnings
Not to get too close!

(Little side note, he's drawn to us all but
finds it much easier to travel via the fools)

COVID-19 let's say...
Corona for ease, he's
Infecting our people
There's no need to sneeze!

He's got it all covered
He's hijacking our air
Needs minimal contact,
Just you to be there

In breathable distance
(He dares you to come close)
Unknowingly contract,
Pass on, double dose

At first you don't feel him
Though he weighs on your chest,
Heavier than you'll know
Until close to death

Some people can fight him
Off better it seems, he
'Prays' on the vulnerable
In contacting these

Who'll pass him on over;
Mum, Dad, Grandad or Nan
The man down the road who
You stopped to shake hands!

The person who's struggling
With another disease;
No room for a Virus
PLEASE don't give to these

The concept is simple
The process a bit hard
But please stay at home,
He's killing us HARD!

It may not be you yet,
Not yet someone you know
But it shouldn't take that...
I want him to go!

PLEASE STAY SAFE AND STAY HOME!

I pray this pupil’s prayer,
penitent for desiring
an end to this madness
of clearing away snow,
only to find more, compact,
beneath the loose surface
      No two snowflakes alike
each snowflake falls with grace
absorbed by tuition fees,
books, books, books!
O the books pour down
clusters of refurbished
cognitive technicalities
      Each unique in its crystal formation
drench my shoes to full with repositories
of Professor gods’ wounded knees and sore egos
do I leggo my Eggo
to feast on academia’s wine
glut on the ambrosia of fine whine?
      What privilege to live in Snowflakia
the snowbanks are too high, Sir!
-still I climb, seeking purchase-
It takes too much time!
-yet I wade through the drifts-
of alabastards’ Judas kiss
       A Snowflake ingrate nation
in turn taken for madness
I cannot find a flick
to fling away wet sopping masses
of absence from classes
brain drain juices taste like molasses
I revile the texture of their pasty *****...
       You haven’t a chance in Hell-
-Ye Gods! Mea Culpa!
I am sorry, O Ponderous Purveyors,
for my blasphemous prayers
I will see the glass is
full of wine not molasses,
I will be a good snowflake and fall
into my pre-planned place
       Your liquid body will purify the well
I want to fall with grace
so I may rise without disgrace.
~
NM
02/04/19