Last Night of the Proms

“Patriotic songs matter” said the petition.
It’s this morning’s All Lives Matter edition.
Even if you don’t know all the words
And are der-der-der-ing by the second verse
Your life will be somehow diminished
If the Beeb change the way that The Proms are finished.

“They’re simply rousing British songs”
Not a catalogue of colonialism’s wrongs
Which are many, and the foundation
Of much of the wealth of this nation.
But we don’t want to talk about that
While we’re waving our plastic union jack.

They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?

What’s the connection
Between the new head of the National Institute of Health Protection
(Set up in the middle of fighting the infection)
And the Secretary of State for Health and Social Care?
Is there something of which we should be aware?

Well, he’s MP for Newmarket and his campaign was endowed
With lots of money from the horseracing crowd,
While she’s on the board of the Jockey Club
And, ay, there’s the rub,
The Cheltenham Festival
Which you might recall
Went ahead when cancellation was the call
And infected a load of people.

And as head of app-less Test and Trace
(Which isn’t in world-beating first place)
Gave ten billion quid of public dough
To Serco, whose CEO
Is Rupert Soames
From one of the country’s most famous homes
And whose brother Nick, I quote
“Is a main investor in the Tote”.

While Randox, who sponsor Aintree,
Are another company
Awarded considerable public money
With very little scrutiny.
A hundred and thirty-three million pounds, in fact,
Is the value of their contract
For testing kits that didn’t work,
And worse
They pay an eight grand a month fee
For consultancy
To another Tory MP.

At Talk Talk she won the wooden spoon,
Which is coming to Dido’s Test and Trace soon
And she’s head of NHS Improvement as well
As this new role, can you hear the death knell?
Because her husband is on the board of 1828
Who called for PHE to meet its fate
And are advocates for a change in Britain
To an insurance-based healthcare system.

So who’s looking after your health today?
Because this lot shoot horses, don’t they?

Ayanda Capital

Welcome to the Ayanda family
Focussed on investment strategy
We specialise in trading currency
You see

Welcome to the Ayanda family
We specialise in offshore property
And private equity
But we’ve never bought any PPE

How can that be?

Welcome to Ayanda Capital
We’ve no PPE experience at all
But there’s 250 million quid on the table
Some haul

Welcome to Ayanda Capital
Kings of remaining profitable
There’s public money there for us to trawl
And a government advisor that we can give a call

The stakes ain’t small

Here’s Andrew Mills, he’s a member of our board
What he knows about facemasks ain’t been explored
But if there’s money to be made then rest assured
He’s on board

Here’s Andrew Mills our deal deviser
ProsperMills’ influence exerciser
And business advisor
To Liz Truss, Secretary of State, for International Trade

That’s how the deal was made

Now if you think that this ain’t corrupt
Then protest singers might as well give up
And turns out the masks ain’t even good enough
And that’s fucked up

The victims of COVID still regularly cop it
While folks like Ayanda are making a profit
Matt Hancock ain’t gonna do anything to stop it
So if you want to protect the NHS as well

Don’t lose your sense of smell

They Is

They is.
They is, the talking point.
They is, the grammatical counterpoint.
They is finding a voice for themself
In a language of such wealth
Of turn of phrase, of evocation
Of the tapestry of an evolving nation.
So it’s sad when some would influence
Opinion of the form’s mellifluence
While they is struggling to identify
The difference between living and getting by
Because surely everybody knows
That language lives, adapts and grows.
It’s less transphobic, admittedly
Than mere linguistic pendantry
But if for you they is a step too far
Then they is still comfortable with they are.

Local Lockdowns, Part One

Go back to your northern powerhouse homes
Unless you are going to the pub, which you should visit alone,
Or work, which you must not shirk.
No visiting family or friends
Unless, we guess, you work with them
But we say again:
No socialising in houses or gardens
No if’s or but’s or beg your pardon’s,
But if you’re one of the shielding folk
Your rights to help have been revoked
And you should come out, your race is run,
Just try not to come into contact with anyone.
Because Hancock, a politician
At home with confusion and contradiction
Accuses you of a lack of compliance
With his social distancing guidance
And has identified some high-risk zones
So go back to your northern powerhouse homes.

(Living Life on the Lookout for A) Second Wave

I hear they’re talking about a second wave, said Jason
We haven’t really got the first one out of the way
It’s a good job we didn’t take that trip to Spain
I couldn’t afford a fortnight with no pay
And they’re increasing self-isolation to ten days

Isn’t a meal out pretty safe? said Joanna
A pub garden if we all behave?
Do you think that we just need to be a little brave?
You can’t live your life looking out for a second wave

But Jason ain’t going to the pub today
Jason’s still scrutinising what they say
Jason is certain that it’s on its way
He’s living life on the lookout for a second wave

I spoke to my brother the other day, said Jason
They couldn’t afford for work to be locked down again
They’ve agreed that for all of them it’s for the best
That if they get poorly, they won’t get a test
They don’t want to hear what a contact tracer might say

The kids need their holidays, said Joanna
Their friends are all going their separate ways
Do you think that we just need to be a little brave?
You can’t live your life looking out for a second wave

But Jason ain’t going to the pub today
Jason’s still scrutinising what they say
Jason is certain it’s on its way
He’s living life on the lookout for a second wave

The most excess deaths in Europe, said Jason
You’ve gotta listen to what I’ve gotta say
It’s business they care for that’s 100% the case
And they need you to start feeling safe
But they ain’t got nothing in place

The local lockdowns are far away, said Joanna
We could go out before we have to do that all again
Do you think that we just need to be a little brave?
You can’t live your life looking out for a second wave

But Jason ain’t going to the pub today
Jason’s still scrutinising what they say
Jason is certain it’s on its way
He’s living life on the lookout for a second wave

Don’t Cough Over Your Cat

No ads for Maccy D’s before bedtime
No BOGOF on Pringles or Mars Bars or any of that
But that’s not even this evening’s headline
Whatever you do, don’t cough over your cat

Spaffer’s a stone down and fat shaming the nation
Clamping down on promotion of food high in sugar and fat
Obligatory labels for cafes in new legislation
And whatever you do, don’t cough over your cat

He says we owe it to the NHS to keep our weight healthy
I suspect he owes them a bit more than that
Start with 350 million a week, maybe
And please don’t cough over your cat

There are complex ethnic and socioeconomic factors
At play here, but despite all of that
The fight against the virus starts a new chapter
With advice to not cough over your cat

Chingford to Oxford Circus (Via Walthamstow Central)

We’re on the 07:14.
Doing alright, it’s fairly quiet
And mask wearing’s mostly observed
Although the fella in the coffee kiosk is wearing his on his chin
While speaking to a single customer
Who’s going to have a dilemma when he gets on the train, having been served.
One man is putting his on as he gets on board,
Leaving it until the last minute to be suitably attired.
You suspect that he doesn’t want to wear it a moment longer than required.

The next stop is Walthamstow Central and onto the Victoria Line.
The man opposite and across one has got a black mask on which looks fine
But his nose is poking out, presumably stopping his glasses steaming up while he does the crossword,
Taking his time between clues, one of which is his bag for life which seems to be living up to its name.
A quick glance down the carriage reveals two more noses on display.

On the seat next to me is the bag that belongs to the woman sat on the next seat but one
From which she produces a standard issue blue non-surgical facemask, you know the one,
Which she hooks over her ears covering her nose and mouth in one go
Then flaps out the sides to try to get the air to flow
Then pulls it down past her nose
Then down past her chin.
Now mouth and nose comfortably exposed
She relaxes and shuts her eyes,
Civic duty done and undone in one two-minute pantomime.
The gaze of the woman two seats further down remains neutral,
Her mask is worn impeccably and you know she’s seen it all and you can sense her disapproval.

Gap Year Kid opposite is wearing his properly too,
His grubby surf chic suggesting that his bulging rucksack
Contains laundry going back a week or maybe two,
Whereas Snood (neck tube?) Guy’s face covering has slipped past his nose unchecked
And by the time he takes the seat vacated by Gap Year Kid
It’s completely round his neck.
He evades my stare by deploying his mobile phone.
He’s not alone,
Cool Fella in the straight brim baseball cap is another nose exposer,
Soon to be a mouth and noser.
If he thinks the risks aren’t worthy
Why does he reposition from the standing seat at the end of the carriage
To the pole in the middle by the double doors
As the train fills up on its southbound journey?
Although it’s nowhere near as busy as a pre-lockdown ride would have been.

The return trip will include more who comply, part comply, or let the rules simply pass them by
And a man who will be determined to be the first off the Chingford train
Although there seems little for him to gain
(He’ll be first to the hand sanitiser too)
But then he won’t want to touch the door control button and so
Will make an awkward attempt with the tip of his elbow.

But the next stop is Oxford Circus
And we’ve got business above ground.