Christmas came in with a whimper.
A glass of golden Prosecco from a daughter
All in all everybody is swapping symptoms
From flu to Covid, from sneezes to chills
Everybody is swapping ills.
Thank God for music and riffs, thank Heavens for ancient chills, and I dont mean viruses I mean mean bass lines and languid guitar phraseology with a few piano bars chucked in.
The door is open, the old git is washing up, the dawter is glued to Marie Antionette and I’ve taken my socks off – its just too damn hot.
They’ve run out of lateral flow tests.
Dark bedrooms and trays of uneaten food outside dark bedrooms.
2022 has come in with a warning. GET WELL SOON otherwise everything we worried about in 2021 will carry on eating away at us like pac-man on acid.
Dennis a caterwauling – he knows something is array
Need that lateral flow.
It’s too hot for comfort, too dark for calmness, too empty for excitement and too dull even for my imagination.
And where do we go from here?
And what do we do now?
I’ve spent a long time watching Bafta movies.
Some made me cry, some made me wince.
Some made me realise that we are living in a time of such radical discontinuity that we don’t know whether our next step is into a sink hole or a field of dreams.
What to do for 22?
We hold onto a bellyful of possibilities.
We pray for health and space
Happiness and the sprouting of 200 bulbs and new beginnings.
Happy new times to us all.