Old Man In Crisis

When I’m at home, I enjoy the sweet sound of silence. I go home to get away from the world but on Bonfire Night there is no silence to be had. And here in the UK, the fireworks seem to go on until the end of November.  Please stop!

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Looking like sky spiders,
whistling like bombs –
but I just want my peace.

They startle me like
flash bangs, leaving
me in No Man’s Land

and to be honest with
you, it’s not at all quiet
on the Western Front.

Shame Catesby and Fawkes
failed to cut Parliament from
balls to brain because then we

wouldn’t have Bonfire Night.
And then I could read, and
refrain from my old man moans.

I could watch films without
the background noise of what
sounds like a groaning gun.

And that’s what’s inside
my head on the fifth, as I
have lost my peace of mind.

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