New Zealand's poet laureate manqué marks Day One of Code Red
The Cron
So we woke as if from a dream,
a dream of wrapping paper and sunburn,
of resolutions mislaid,
shaken rudely from our summer slumber.
At the Gates! Lo, the dreaded Cron.
The omnipresent, omniscient, ominous Cron.
The insidious, invidious, inscrutable Cron.
The corona feints and pivots!
From north to south, the citizenry debate
whether code red means loo roll stampedes;
from east to west, the loyal peasantry
argue whether endemic means let her rip.
The Zeppelin of State reverses mid-air,
Queen Cindy declares the Royal Wedding cancelled,
Baron Luxon quickly sketches Plan B
on the back of pie packet,
MIQ is MIA, DOA, TLDR.
In Cell 7687 at Mount Eden,
Grand Archangel Brian broods forsaken,
as the batteries finally expire
on his mobile EFT POS terminal
with a gloomy bleep.
Victor Billot has previously been moved to write Odes for such as Christopher Luxon, Jacinda Ardern, Brian Tamaki, Willis and Rawnsley, Dr Siouxsie Wiles, Duncan Garner, and Garrick Tremain.
