The Covid Interview

I had misgivings from the start.
That warning flutter in the heart
which asks -  what is the etiquette
when speaking to a global threat?
With ISIS or the IRA
you have to think – what will folk say?
Should we give space, or time on air
to those who traffic in despair?
My editor said “Join the queue”
so – here’s my Covid interview.

She sat there, laughed to see my eyes
wide open, gobsmacked by surprise.
I’d guess that she enjoys the joke.
“You thought I’d be some stroppy bloke
with muscles clenched, and twisted face
consumed by hatred of the race.
It isn’t that I wish you dead;
it’s simply that I need to spread.
A multi-national must expand
forever. Now, d’you understand?”

I ask her – “Nothing we can do?”
“Grow up. You know that isn’t true.
Your smartest people are quite clear
what needs to happen. You don’t hear
because you’d rather give applause
to chancers fighting ancient wars.
When chasing profit they move fast
but nothing that they make will last.
Share vaccines and you might just cope
but as you are? No, not a hope.”

Nil desperandum. Life goes on.
“Still, back to normal when you’ve gone.
I guess you’ll miss this smart hotel?”
“Are you that dumb? You know full well
the stuff that helped me to arrive
is still around and set to thrive
and I have variants up my sleeve
more devious than you’d believe.
This isn’t a hotel. No way.
I’ve bought this place. I’m here to stay.”

Joint winner, Bishop’s Castle poetrry competition, January 2022