Setting Fire to the Train Tracks to Get the Snow to Melt, by Rupert M Loydell

I am not a silent poet

It’s not unexpected, it’s not a surprise,
it’s not even a snowstorm, 20cm of the stuff
on a main road and the county grinds to a halt.
There’s only one gritter for us all, we’ve run out
of salt, and some stupid driver had an accident
the moment the first snowflake fell. Elsewhere,
people have left their cars and walked away,
and a school are bedding down for the night.
You couldn’t make it up. I haven’t. It might be
cold, it might be icy, we will have to stay home.
Funny, I had a coat, a scraper and simply drove
slow. I think it has happened here before
but you wouldn’t know it. We are busy stockpiling
food and buckets of water in the cupboard
in case Europe turns the supply off. We grew
our own veg and won the war and we don’t want
foreigners here. We’d rather…

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