Thursday, January 10, 2013


Whitby church under threat from landslips*

The church, brained by Henry,
crazy, incontinent cliffhanger,
stares catatonic out to sea,
while its footing, undermined,
falls away, clean bones and all,
into Fortune's Kippers.

Crestfallen and bitter, our vicar
transplants the dearly departed
and prays to God, perhaps,
then calls a civil engineer.

* This graveyard erosion was already a worry in the 19th century, in the time of Dracula, no less, according to Bram Stoker's novel. Whitby is where that nosferatu landed in Blighty, and plenty of the narrative unfolds in the churchyard at Whitby.

No comments: