Radio news bulletin in the car the last item read in those mellifluous tones is about a seven-year-old boy struck and killed by a car in a poor suburb of Wellington.
The protocol around the legal and privacy issues means it’s “no name, no pack drill”, but he was someone, someone’s son, grandson perhaps even great-grandson. He had probably had siblings, definitely friends and playmates.
Somewhere in a house with inadequate winter heating, where the household income is constantly under siege and life never rises above a struggle, there is a mother and a father who bear this greatest grief.
Andrew M. Bell
The poet acknowledges "The Typewriter", the online literary journal in which this poem was first published.
I didn't do anything controversial today Other than hear the news. I must be an aberration; in the minority. I didn't shoot my mouth off; I didn't shoot anyone, Or invade my neighbour's space. If I did, I'd be the news. All I did was write an inconsequential poem With a pen moving across straight blue lines. I'll bet Chris Wallace won't read it on the news.
I had a poem ready, a light-hearted ode To identities I'd rather have, And lives I'd like to live. But in hindsight seems insensitive, Simple references to machines of war, Turn from what was implied. Because the inference is the key And right now such things are taboo, Not from some self-important sense of justice, but because of the nightmares we're about to live through. I can only pray; Wishing this isn't what we are.
London is dead And the streets are on fire Boris Johnson Is a ******* liar
He's had one too many chips And stuck his hands in the fryer Cheese, wine and BYOB But a party wasn't his desire Boris Johnson Is a ******* liar
A Tory boy at heart Doesn't know the cost of bread ...For a start Lying has become His favourite art Funds his chums with millions They only eat a le carte While the working class struggle On a horse and cart Outside Downing Street You can hear the choir Boris Johnson Is a ******* liar
Full of lies and deceit Tory voters should have kept a receipt In the House of Commons How the **** does this man have a seat? A once proud nation Now knocked off our feet In Trafalgar Square You can hear the Town Crier Boris Johnson Is a ******* liar
Higher income tax And VAT No money back No guarantee Trying to get rid of the BBC The Tories even had to apologise To the ******* Queen This situation is beyond belief The screams are getting higher and higher Boris Johnson Is a ******* liar
No respect for the NHS This country's in a ******* mess Ran by monkeys Who can't even dress Led by a ***** Who we all deteste It's time for this muppet to retire Boris Johnson Is a ******* liar
Brexit was his plan And Grenfell was neglected The pandemic sent this place ******* hectic Someone please get this clown ejected London's burning And the city's on fire Boris Johnson Is a ******* liar
Lisa and I got our emails the same day. She read hers first. She made a small sighing sound, the faintest of protests. Then broke the news, with a scowl, “They’re moving classes online “temporarily.”
I don’t want to talk about Corona any more - I want to scream about it. Maybe we’ll graduate, in three years, without knowing what most of our classmates look like - antithetical to university “networking”.
I’m lucky, I know - I’m only inconvenienced. I roam, safely, indoors, impatiently untouched by adult, real world concerns, like jobs and money. So I’ll keep my head up and smile like those glamorous, happy girls in ****** commercials.
ch#66 BLT word of the day “antithetical” antithetical: the exact opposite