My Dog Errol

'A JOURNAL OF THE PLAGUE YEAR'

044 • Lord Abercrombie

In a luxury flat in Belgravia
Or the crypt of the nearby St Saviour
It’s Lord Abercrombie
The amateur zombie
Rehearsing his tiresome behaviour.

The aristocracy! Lovely part of the world, mind.

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1 Logic lies in flames, sense evaporates. Thinking-caps melt, and untruths threaten in a toxic tide.

2 The drowning sleeper grasps in vain for reason, yet wakens with a hand all wreathed in rhyme.

3 For it is an Age of Nonsense.

4 Arise, Richard, blurt your quantum of twaddle. Each morning for one year, purge forth the nightmare’s poison.

5 Blurt a mosaic map of our deluded times.

6 Or rather, hereby chart your inner wilderness.

Reader, let your companionship be my troubled comfort. Sustain my trial with the kindness of your comments. And urge me on.