Poems

Jim Woods: ‘COVID Vic.’

COVID Vic.
(with apologies to Leigh Hunt)

Abou Dan Andrews, may his vote decrease,
Sat in his office with his chief of police.
The office was gloomy but casting some light
Was the Victorian Angel, a man oh so bright.
There in the corner happily dining on mutton
Was the angel, his boss, the mighty Brett Sutton.
“You look so worried, Brett, what is the issue?”
“A lady outside has twice gone ‘a tis hoo’.”
“‘A tis hoo’,” said Dan, “there’s no need to worry,
We’ll lock down the state as far north as the Murray.”
Brett spoke more low, but worriedly still,
“That might sound ok, but it won’t fill the bill.
Seven people living in East Nar Nar Goon
Were spotted together IN THE SAME ROOM.
Three others, residents of Come By Chance
Went outside and started to dance.”
Dan said, “Good heavens, we must stop the rot.
We’ll have to imprison the whole flamin’ lot.”
Sutton said. “Dan, you’ve filled all the jails.
I think we’ll have to blame New South Wales.”

Jim Woods

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