The Heart of a New Saturday Night
a poem for Covid-19 release day
100 days Lockdown days passed and gone
Shops reopened and pubs followed on.
“Super Saturday” says our
PM, self styled prince of fun.
New Year’s eve, and Bank Holiday too
Rolled up, combined tonight united as one.
“Saturday Night’s all right for Fighting “
Beers, Vodka, and Gin, tension tightening
“Barman, same drinks again” Sam.
One meter apart, that’s what’s demanded
Serviced table seated, six at a time,
Raucous laughter shouts, reprimanded.
Reservations , Registrations, queues, rain from on high
2 hours a table, food drink, time and words fly.
“time people please, time to go”
Security’s here with words in the ears
Mumour, complaints, yells and shouts.
Scuffling chairs, angry words, downing last beers.
Nine o’clock, outside, no bookings in advance,
Suit on the door, “no app confirmation? You haven’t a chance”
Words, finger pointing, someone’s to blame
Homeward, face, masked, wrapped, tied tight
A night ending sober, before match of the day.
This is heart of the “New” Saturday Night.
Toon Traveller
