Pandemonium
The everlasting tree of life
in care homes,
meat factories,
the blood stream of asylum-seekers
cooped up in beds squashed together.
‘Excuse me Bark
I am the Bard from Wuhan,
come by coracle and winds of wrath.
We have landed among you with our verses.
We expect you to melody
- unless you already have dysentery in your country.’
“You can feck off home
as soon as the 5 km radius is expanded to whisk you home.
We have no more need of stranded strangers”
piped up one thirsty mouth
waiting for the bars to open,
or even our local SuperValu
to lift the shutters on Sunday morning."