Welcome…

…Here we are,

Ladies and gentlemen, and those to whom

we respect define as neither,

splash on a little make up and relax

for here we are in the last heady days of Berlin,

the days of Rome

before the Vandals

and Nero’s enigmatic solo

on a half strung fiddle, raise a toast

and see the world, frolic, dine,

take a picture of your neighbour’s dinner

and give it a groovy like, drop your pants

in excitement as low core porn

becomes a reality programme, and

we remember being called decadent

as our theatre show drew in thousands,

welcome, my friends, take a seat,

order a glass of expensive champagne

and sip it tenderly, make the bubbles last, before they burst,

pop goes the weasel and the credit,

the high street chain down at heel,

ravaged by our friends online…

welcome to the circus, bread and sport,

welcome to the fame here on stage

and a bowler hat of coloured choice,

welcome to the point where we discuss

what the Baby Boomer did for us,

what the sacrificial X, XX, XY, XYZ, yyz

in their melancholic foam and angst did for us,

what the Millennial will do

now that the last days of Berlin are here,

adore Sally Bowles one last time,

think back to her mother,

the lion, the witch, the tinman

and the beloved scarecrow as he loses weight

to the jackdaws and magpies picking

at his chest, feathering

their own nest; for these are the last days

of Berlin, of Rome as it burned

and the handbasket always has a little more

room, should you need a lift…

welcome.

 

Ian D. Hall 2018