Stephen Kingsnorth

My hearing these days not so good

and sight is fading, understood?

Best table cloth, dementia spread,

I eat confusion, marmalade.

See here, enfolded on my lap,

my lad brought me a Christmas box,

and though Greek history at school,

I learned, imported, Trojan horse.


Our stocks of alcohol should rise,

invade the skin, puncture the pride

of coronation, covid king -

the spectre, orb should abdicate.

And closer home the mask of gauze

trussed over zygomatic arch

supported ears, hide nose and mouth,

but Covid ball invades the masque.


I bought a tonic for my nerves

with malt extract and beef, refined -

add vitamins, health supplement -

small Virol bottle on the shelf.

Antibiotics will not work,

germ not susceptible I’m told.

They know a virus from a cold

but Alzheimer, another quirk.

Stephen Kingsnorth (Cambridge M.A., English & Religious Studies), retired to Wales from ministry in the Methodist Church, has had some 190 pieces published by on-line poetry sites, printed journals and anthologies. https://poetrykingsnorth.wordpress.com

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