Furloughed

Call it a holiday
but what a way
to spend it,

keeping your distance
in case they’re infected,
staying indoors
and it is as I suspected
not a holiday at all,
all we need is a ball and chain
and it’s a Christmas Carol
all over again.

Ghosts in the ceiling
pasta in the kitchen
a shilling in the meter
which in
new money
is five pence,

nothing makes sense
anymore,
I think that to myself
as I load the twelve-bore
just in case
I have visitors.

© 2021, John Smallshaw.