Don't Feel It, Fight It
He said he was putting up wardrobes,
I heard picking up drugs –
In Romania – that’s close to the border.
I apologized, but it’s a tall order
hearing properly over tinnitus
and entry-level kids from the Emerald Isle
acting the maggot and speaking Child
on the bus to work. There’s frigates
destroyers, aircraft carriers, off the coast,
hanging around, ready to roast
some obstinate regime with ideals
from fifty years ago, grudges they’d steal
from forefathers if not for amputation.
If you’re drowning in a pool,
pull someone else in, fill it up with fools -
when there’s enough there floundering,
you could stand on their shoulders
or displace the water – so my theory goes,
but it’s easily debunked, disproved,
like the crap it is. In a tailspin?
Write in the margins, blame immigration,
bravely launch apps, carry on watching
continental students storm The Bastille
and keep calm – why, only yesterday Fergie
landed Beatrice and Eugenie in harm
and a pig was born on Clarkson’s Farm.
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