By Christos Floratos
Aghast to the virus spread obtuse
like a Goose on a noose, left to flutter
melting in summer butter; just a mild cracked windpipe.
On the mystic ball; the test cassette.
Two red lines are the finish line,
for the future has no warranty.
Ahem, hack, achoo.
Thousands upon thousands.
We must live with it, live with it.
Die by it, die by it.
The liar, the Godman, and the mask-less wardrobe.
They live in another world where
The Economy gave us His vaccinated,
so we may have the sacred Pub.
Iso for 3 days or so.
Who even knows?
The Economy, The Capitalist and the Holy Omicron.
At death’s door we adore the sore nodes,
At the back of our throat.
Receive our last rites – a letter from Centrelink,
your mutual obligations are due!
Masks are too much trouble.
Like a newborn,
close your eyes, shut your ears.
La, la, la.
Don’t worry, nothing to fear. It is not here.
Did we learn nothing from the queers?
Let the world seer from the Liberal leer.
“Thank Economy we can fire the gays,”
as the public cheer!
They cite a testament as old as the bible.
Grinch of the highest order
who had already squandered,
to prepare for a future testing cycle.
Call triple zero if you are dying, dying, dying.
Can you breathe properly?
A knife in your back?
Car to your abdomen?
Hospitals are only for the sick.
Hospitals are only for the very sick.
They are for the dying,
They are for the body bags.
Don’t go. Are you dying?
Did you hear the sale?
Free casket with your
Five for 100 or more, you casual con-artist.
3 hours and 59 minutes too early.
I am positively positive about our positivity.
Climbing and climbing, highest in the world.
Taller than the Blue Mountains,
blue as the UV light on the two red lines,
As anxious as two white blushing men.
Waiting for our result, every day.
15 minutes; we pace a marathon holding our breaths.
It will be red one day, thanks to you, Dominic.
I am tired of you, but I do not tire for you.
Like Morrison, your gospel Trumps all.
To Hazard, your KPIs exceeded the projection.
Domicron and Scomicron,
The business Australians
can peacefully lay to rest
as the UV light shines
on the red control line.
© Christos Floratos 2019
I’ve been writing and thinking of stories since I started playing with toys, telling myself wondrous tales with ill-fitting figurines and using my books to represent houses and buildings my characters would explore. Naturally, I have been drawn to social work because I am interested in listening to peoples stories and exploring their identity.
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