Monday, 8 January 2018

Vital Signs of Our Time

Political health

Theresa and Jeremy turn up at the oz.
Two more in the queue - well, the queue that once was.
Today it's a scrum, a melee, a crowd,
Sick people on trolleys, or waiting outside.

Alerted for months, predicted for years -
Where's the prescription for crocodile tears?

© Charlie Lambert

Theresa May changes tack to apologise for postponed operations

Charlie Lambert is a former journalist and sports broadcaster who turned to a different form of media in 2016 when he started writing poetry. He lives in Liverpool, where the hospital is known universally as 'the oz'.


That strain again, it had a dying fall.
            Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

Poetry mutates like flu: a core of purpose
embedded in an ever-changing surface.

Milton decried the modern bondage of rimeing.
So many ways with words have died through time.

Mostly we’re immune from art, resistant
or silently infected, jingle-listening: coexistent,

but when disease ensues it may be serious,
casualties often become obsessed, delirious

and secondary infections may present:
poetry voice, slam stance or olde inversion (not so quaint).

Or perhaps poetry is more like chicken pox or shingles?
Once caught it’s integrated, for ever part of us that lingers.

Where this metaphor breaks down is in who suffers most,
an infected victim or those close to an afflicted host?

© Myfanwy Fox

Myfanwy Fox has had a weird life and would like to make yours weirder, too. She occasionally blogs at Fox Unkennelled