Twenty Twenty

Starting off with promise 

But Since when was spring the end?

We were Hemmed in then? 

A new enemy 

Separating friends from friends

Putting a coughing spitting heavy breathing fox amongst the hens

Stop all the clucking and the finger lickin’ 

You little chickens

 now your bed will be your pen 

Discovering A distanced world 

A class of twitching curtains 

A switch is certain

From daily inky rags

to Damp fake news 

Its all A ruse

Like wet big wigs

And Dripping merkins 

A banned Embrace offends

Unknown lands

hidden hands, 

And These ever-shifting rules to bend 

To break and hack 

now Back off

You jack off 

Nah you're way off 

This smacks of

Those whack toffs

Who have the knack of 

Throwing untrue stones and Running away

Thinking of new games to play 

Stuck fast Incarcerated

A nation all constipated 

never on the mend

Lacking helping hands to lend

And these days begin to blend

These novel sunrise rays 

come streaming in from that silent fray

Heating the room

A sticky fucking tomb 

Of wanking and zoom

Of cheap rosé And microwavable food

Piercing the lid in the claustrophobia gloom

As we unknowing sit down to travel the hard yards

Pull my brain out through my nose

and stuff it in an online canopic jar

And my liver, lungs, stomach and heart

All Pixelated

Staring at those rays 

Wishing I was a kid

playing in the yard 

But now its time for solitude and living life through amazon

Tie a belt around your arm

Driving alone at night but you still got your hazards on

Desperation while this 

Destination set for Accumulation heroin

Yoga mats, shitty wine and chain pizza do the mellowing

Shopping cart reminder emails

Your purchase history yellowing

Grinding down the teeth

Suckle at the teet

Suckle on the meat

Always off your feet

As you inject another little dose of the relief

But these new fucking running shoes are just playing havoc with your knees

So you go back sitting staring at the screen

Illuminating this agoraphobic paranoia gleam

The sheen 

That seems to shimmer on your skin

Sticking to you like vaseline

With blue light to put a match to your eyes 

As you burn yourself out working late into the night

With no line

Between the office or the home

If we are all in the same boat

Why do I feel so fucking alone?

Forever bathing in this solitary glow

Staring at a silent phone

Forgotten, I’m just chatting to the stove

A remainder in his kitchen

just Bitchin about the boiler that’s about to blow

The lights about to go

And swearing at the dripping tap

That long slow overflow,

That’s not but emphasising the lack 

Of passing time 

The slowness of the homebound lap

The communal clap 

The days marked by the bottles in the bin

All those evenings you forgot to take in 

with a rosé tint

A chablis glint

And so we began to settle in

To this new insulated living

with toilet paper ritalin

The shops need strippin

The Panic is addicting

So high on the chaos

Selfishly we silently agree

to Fuck the elderly

Who are Standing in the Supermarket quivering

Scared of touching anything 

Staring at the wilting veg

The broken eggs

The tea with biscuits on the edge

The public have all been sorted into slytherin

Laughing at those weak Baby deers shivering

Looking for a dying doe

Stuck inside Infected care homes

Wishing we were back shut in

Huddled in a duvet 

While The weeks become muddled in

Mixing in the mess of gin and suffering

A little dash of quarantine

The tonic seems a little bitter 

Taking it up the shitter

Make lemonade from eternal lemons 

Squeezed for the blustering devil

Far from lean

Held up In his limousine

the blue blooded bulla bulla who revels

With his dishevelled hair

And his cabinet of cowardly rebels

Blonde hiding behind the blacked door

Snorting coke and fucking whores

as he removes his belt

And gives a few more lashes to the national service of health 

Ridiculing life support

holding rights with which few were born

Drawing lines that lose their form

Like the decency he showed in his historic college dorms

And we move into the brand new norm 

Of covered mouths 

And hidden scorn

Sure torment 

Coughs 10 days dormant

And we shall lament

State our intent

Stay at home and save lives

Now Burn the phones and cut the lines

the old will die

The young will decay

These are the forever days

Long live the elected king

We promise you won’t feel a thing

Confusion is what the nation needs 

As we still satisfy our greed

As we bring it to its fucking knees

This is how things will be

We will tell you how you can be free

Sit down, shut up

Be good 

This is twenty twenty.