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Poem

Who knows who would 
'true valiant be'
when you can't see 
beyond the end of your nose?
who knows?

It has to be Sunday some day
and today is some day for some
hymns and hers (towels in the bathroom)
down the stairs
toast and preserves in the conservatory
not mandatory 
but it's Sunday.

God must be reeling in shock 
wondering what he has done 
Jesus is getting the backlash 
it's always a Sunday for some.

I'm going to queue up for my 
holy wine and wafer 
it's 
safer not to sit upon the fence 
and where else can you find this
kind of entertainment 
for a pound or even less,
for fifty
pence?

beyond when I pass into 
poets corner 
where the monks and Friars 
sort wheat from the chaff 
I shall laugh 
I shall rhyme 
have a bloody marvellous time 
Who knows who
'..would true valiant be..'

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