May Day
May 22, 2012
Mad May in my English garden,
10 green roses are making for the sky
,
weaving up through established honeysuckle
,
Damocles-ing the wrong way round.
Mad May in my darling garden
,
dragonflies are in the sink,
crazy paving’s running riot,
the daffodils are on the blink.
May Day, May Day –
the washing’s climbing up the walls,
there’s something creeping
in the midnight undergrowth,
the stars are flashing morse code.
Wisteria’s hysterical.
Geraniums are late
The snails are thriving
on a tenacious border.
Next doors cat is hunting chicks.
Mad May in municipal offices.
Mad May in the red brick pool.
Mad May in the dentist and the doctors.
Jubilees and bunting rule.
May day’s come and gone unnoticed,
the House of Lords have brushed their wigs,
the cabinet have sent a cut
to the Queen, for her to read.
Hollihocks in the high street hustle.
Ivy stalks the job centre queues.
Mad May in the admin department
,
building asylums and slicing schools.
Mayday, Mayday, but the marching’s over,
Syrian civilians are exploding from cars
,
the King of Bahrain is eating cake,
the Tyrant of Swaziland’s playing cards.
Mayday, Mayday, but the marching’s over,
the government’s been weeding poverty
the usual suspects, single mothers,
the sick, the lonely, elderly.
Mad May, Rule Britannia.
Parliament’s hung
.
The garden grows.
Mayday, Mayday,
my tiny house
glows in it’s driveway,
Mad May, Mayday howls.
