13 Dec 2016 – That Time of Year
Great food-chain fandango – who’s up and who’s down?
The castanets clamour as climbers spin round.
We peasants hear musak, but no other sounds
as grandees decide to whom each shall be bound.
The emails come slowly – each squad holds its breath!
Each new lord reciting his team’s shibboleths.
“Hell no, I’m no stranger!” – such seems to suggest,
but they, like the last ones, keep cards to their chests.
Next year there’ll be new ones, all these will be gone,
flown off to the heights with the grace of white swans.
Us? Eager to welcome the devil’s new spawn
while wiping the left-over shit off our lawns.