New Years Eve 2021

 

The hyacinths, lopsided, listing to the light, 

In “this is all they had left” shades

Of sickly, pale pink, and lipstick hues, too bright,

In sea green bowl with lustre glaze, that never fades 

To softer greys and duller blues towards the coming night,

Emit a perfume, barely noticed on the kitchen air,

A pale hope left hanging, slightly sweeter than despair.

A New Year hope, a timid thing, perhaps a prayer,

A call to simply be allowed to do what’s to be done,

To live according to one’s will and simply bugger on. 

Matt’s Miracle

 Let us no longer gaze into the abyss,

The time has come to laugh and take the piss,

Our loved ones, murdered by the state,

Are laughing down at us, from Heaven’s gate,

Rejoicing they were freed from Hell on earth,

Their brains and senses dimmed, as at their birth,

We know that Hancock preordained their fate,

With doses of the drug that makes the electric chair,

A little easier, at last, to bear,

We know the thing’s just one outrageous scam,

Based on the miracle, Midazolam.