What crisis?



The wind’s dropped
along with my aspirations
the clapometer needle’s
not moving,
( should I use the swingometer?)

Those good old days are back
open fires and a sack of
‘nutty slack’
bow and scrape
skin your knees
say
thankyou sir
not forgetting please,

breadlines
hard times
rationing and
Buddy
has no more dimes,

we’ll all be singing for our supper
up a gum tree
or shit creek
today or next week,

the wind’s dropped
the music’s stopped
grab a chair.

© 2020, John Smallshaw.