Seasonal shift

Fucked-up? — of course not. Dad and mum
raised you to happy adulthood.
The once-Coy Mistress lifts her thumb
to signify that she’ll come good.
The Listeners, answering the first knock,
invite the Traveller in for beer
and no one slays the Jabberwock
because the sukebind’s late this year.


The Lady of Shallot survives —
the art world loves her tapestries.
The Ancient Mariner contrives
his one-man show from a trapeze.
Proud Ozymandias still stands,
The Waste Land’s references are clear
and all connect on Margate sands
because the sukebind’s late this year.

D.A.Prince


If you have any thoughts about this poem, D.A. Prince  would like to hear them