School’s out for (summer? Ever?) And the kids
Are running wild. There’s no more crowd control.
No seating plans, no streaming. What we did
To them was point them at a single goal:

“GCSEs. A-levels. They’re your sole
Objective. They’re the reason that you’re here!”
By focusing on testing them we stole
Their love of learning. Filled them all with fear.

But now school’s out. There’s no exams this year.
The virus killed our metric for success
The kids are running wild and we should fear
Their anger, we who got them in this mess.

Our education system, now, is burning
Here comes the test: can we, at last, start learning?

Full disclosure, this is a conglomerate of people I’ve spoken to or overhead in the last week.

Which is less scary because this one person doesn’t exist, and more scary because there’s a lot of people thinking this way.

Fuss About Nothing

She said “I think it’s all just stupid, me
It’s no worse than the flu, nobody’s dying
Unless they’re sick already! We should be
Ignoring all this “lockdown” talk, and trying

To get on with our lives – People are lying
Around at home, the lazy sods: I’m here!
I’ve got a cough, and you don’t see me crying!
(It’s just a tickle, nothing too severe.)

I’ve done some shopping for me nan, poor dear.
The way they’ve got her scared, it isn’t right!
Old ladies being paralysed by fear!
I’m nipping round to cheer her up tonight.”

She coughed at me, and tutted when I winced
Then went to teach her class, not yet convinced.

The bus is two thirds full. Everything seems
So ordinary, but it isn’t, quite
People are going to work. There are no screams
No looting parties. But it’s not quite right.

The man in the newsagents wears a mask
And latex gloves. There isn’t any pasta
Or toilet paper. I don’t like to ask
If there’s more coming. Thought it would be faster,

The breakdown of society, but no.
It’s all the same, except that here and there

It’s slightly different, just enough to show
That something very bad is in the air.

Online, I read that Covid deaths are soaring.
I’m terrified. So why’s life still so boring?

Inspired by an analogy my friend Matt drew my attention to.

(Note for sonnet purists, I know the scansion is off. I was trying for a slightly jolty, unsettling effect. I don’t know if it’s landed, though, or if I just look like I’m crap at iambs.)

Our country voted to take back control.
Thinking that we’d be be better off alone,
And although some of us did moan and groan
Our politicians were quick to extoll

The virtues of quitting the Eurozone
At all costs, independence was our goal.
Yet now we find that we are in a hole:
As Covid-19 hits, we’re on our own.

So people can afford to stop the spread
Of this pandemic, rent and cost of bread
Are being paid, in EU member states.

Our government would sooner see us dead
But don’t complain! We know we sealed our fate
When we decided to self-isolate.

Can you remember back then? when we travelled?
We’d worry about using too much fuel
In aeroplanes! But then it all unraveled.
Remember when we used to go to school?

Remember supermarkets? They were cool,
But at the time, we saw them as a chore.
Remember choosing food that wasn’t gruel?
We never get to do that any more.

I wish we had the things we had before:
The internet, and Netflix. It’s a crime
The way the new world order’s such a bore
Still, looting parties help to pass the time.

Remember…? Never mind. I know it’s vague.
But it was better then, before the plague.

The current situation now demands

We do the following, to reduce harm.

Take soap and water, put them on your hands,

Then rub them both together, palm to palm

The backs of your hands, now require your care

So rub them both, then intertwine your fingers

Then squeeze each one, make sure no virus dares

Upon your pristine digits yet to linger.

Now rub your palms, just use your fingertips.

You’re almost done! Your hands are nice and clean!

Hold them beneath the tap, to catch the drips

And not a speck of dirt can now be seen.

Now dry on paper towels. You’re doing great!

And lastly, don’t forget to smash the state!

Self isolation really isn’t a
Big deal to me. I like being alone
At home. I’m happiest when on my own.
Watching TV. I’ve been OK so far.

I do not want to go out in the car
I’m happy here. While extroverts may groan,
Effective quarantining has been shown
To halt the spread. Though I’m feeling sub par.

The doctors say I don’t need to be tested.
It’s likely not THE bug, but just the flu
And there’s no money left to be invested
In treatment, so I’ll stop at home and stew.
And if I was infectious ere I nested
I hope I didn’t pass it on to you…

Since we seem to be living through a time of plague and general hellishness, I’m going to follow Shakespeare’s example and write a load of sonnets.

Infection Control

Sing Happy Birthday twice while washing hands
It isn’t much, but still, we’ve got to try
Make sure that everybody understands
That many of our loved ones, soon, will die.

I know that things seem bleak, but do not cry,
It really will not help the situation
Just stock up on your toilet roll supply.
If symptoms start, begin self isolation.

At all costs, please avoid contamination
Except of course, the cost of workforce time.
Come into work: It’s not a paid vacation!
If you’re not sick, then staying home’s a crime!

When thousands die untreated, well, that’s tough:
Perhaps they didn’t wash their hands enough.

There are fairy folk in Sheffield

They are watching, they are waiting

For the people to forget

The reason why they need the iron.

Sheffield city’s built on iron

Forged and purified to steel

And fairy folk detest the iron

Cannot stand it, cannot touch

The humans when they hold and wield it.

Fairy folk are weak in Sheffield.

Still, they’re waiting in the shadows

Machon Bank is named for fairies

And the humans there who know this

Think of small and pretty creatures

Blessing houses, granting wishes.

They have never seen the fairies

Never heard their voices whisper

Nor have seen their flashing eyes, their

Gleaming teeth, their wings of leather:

They imagine flower fairies

Yet a flower, still, can kill you:

Bluebell, hemlock, deadly nightshade…

But the iron keeps them weakened.

Sheffield is the steel city

But the forges, now are closing

And the furnaces are cold.

The fairies wait. The fairies whisper

Now the humans are forgetting

Why the iron was important.

Nightshade, bluebell, hemlock growing

On the sites of closed down steelworks.

Maykin, Barghast, Jenny Greenteeth

Waiting for the iron to leave us

Waiting to come back to Sheffield.

Watching, whispering and waiting

Soon the humans will forget.

I really like the title of this, but the poem is more of a stream of consciousness brain dump.

The problem with most sex education is this:

We try to terrify young people into safety:

We show you gruesome close-ups of third stage syphilis.

In-depth descriptions of the agony of childbirth,

The horrible scars from caesarean sections,

And of lost dreams of university.

But even worse, eventual infertility

From repeated Chlamydia infections.

As for HIV, we’re so afraid

You won’t take it seriously

We won’t even tell you about PEP

Even though it could save your life.

Because it’s more complicated than that now.

HIV, detected and treated early, probably won’t kill you, but it’s still something to be feared:

It will be a lifelong condition.

You’ll have to take strong medication

You may find that, over time, your body fat distribution goes a bit weird

And your lifespan will be near-normal,

But it won’t be normal.

You won’t be normal.

Although people living with HIV are perfectly normal, we’re not saying…

It’s just too complicated to explain

So all in all we’d rather you thought of HIV

As the deadly disease it used to be.

We want you safe from this.

We want you scared of this.

And so we place the emphasis on risk.

We tell you

“Don’t have sex, but when you do, make sure you’re using condoms”

We tell you

“Tell your boyfriend no condom, no sex!”

Which might as well be saying “if your boyfriend wears a condom, how can you refuse him?”

We tell you

“Get tested!”

“Get tested!”

“Get tested!”

And then we tell you off for taking risks

When you come to get tested.

We talk about sex in terms of risk

Of sexually transmitted infections.

Of peer pressure.

Of bad decisions after alcohol.

Of unrealistic expectations set up by internet porn.

Of locker room talk, boys trying to measure

Up to some standard of masculinity.

Girls being embarrassed about their virginity.

You know what we NEVER

Dare to tell the kids about?

Sexual pleasure.

We never say

Sex is supposed to feel good.

And, especially if you have a vagina

The be all and end all of sex

Isn’t talking your partner out of putting a potential disease or a baby inside you.

It’s about feeling good. And it’s about sharing those feelings.

It’s not all about having orgasms that send you reeling.

(Although don’t get me wrong, those are pretty appealing.)

And it shouldn’t ever be about doing something because you feel like you’re supposed to.

It’s about feeling close to someone you want to feel close to.

And sometimes it’s about co-creating a lasting bond, too.

Which really won’t work if either person feels forced to

Do anything, anything, that they don’t really want to.

The problem with most sex education

Is that we withhold the most important information.

So raise awareness,

Consensual, enthusiastic, safe-as-possible sex can have life changing consequences.

Sexually Transmitted Affections.

We need to teach the children about them

It’s simply too great a risk not to.