Thursday, October 22, 2020

Socialist Sonnet No. 4

 Tier a Shed*

There’s pestilence in Cottonopolis,

So, time to bar the doors and clear the streets,

The rule is, no one drinks if no one eats,

A recipe for neo-Rachabite bliss

Even as bar staff and brewers lament.

There are good odds punters of casinos

Will be better off with tables being closed,

Though owners decry what is being imposed,

Seeing as they’re losing as business goes.


Gyms are shut up, retail is in retreat,

Office blocks are silent and deserted,

Events cancelled, there’s no deadlines to meet

With revenue streams dammed and diverted.


In all news of Cottonopolis ills,

Not a single mention of cotton mills.


D. A.


*Cotton weaving mills were known as sheds.

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