2019 04 – Rexit (poem)


  • Getting that feeling things are disintegrating around you?
  •   The crew that you trusted to run the ship
  • are now all captains in the queue.
  •   charting a course for the isle of Apocalypse?
  • Or could this be running on the spot,
  •   lots of movement but getting nowhere,
  • contributing to the rot?
  •   Or the admiral as cabin-boy in full glare
  • running errands to Brussels
  •   on yet another dead mare
  • (being pecked by crows)
  •   to where the mighty euro rustles
  •   along with that old fox in the hedgerow.?

Wilson John Haire.  28th March 2019