The Weekly Muse

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A gale hurls the chestnuts down,

The rain spanks on the window panes,

As back and forth, on broken hinge

The barn door curtsies and complains.

And in the grain store, mice peruse

A tasty item in the news.

"A Mouse Found in a Topic Bar",

A rodent cries: "Well there you are!

Come fellow mice, let's fall on Slough

For Mars UK keep nuts there now.

We run the risk of dying I know,

But what a brilliant way to go."

"I'm not too sure," another said.

"Supposing you weren't fully dead?

And though I blush to think of it,

There's other places Mars bars fit."

The Oscars gone, their staff on strike.

A young presenter on his bike

For nasal capers in the night.

His current prospects aren't too bright.

The same applies to Radio 4,

Whose figures show a drop once more.

The BBC can only pray,

That this was just a Bad Air Day.

Having closed the small shops down,

The superstores moved out of town

To double up on what they make

Creating deserts in their wake.

Anachronistic Marxist 'zines,

Revived by tart old never-beens,

Should aim their rusty spud-guns there,

Instead of slagging Tony Blair.

Money, talent, fame, now more:

It's Ginger Spice, Ambassador.

She's bound to be a huge success

She should have hung on to the dress.

"New Woman Tied to Kitchen Sink".

A startling headline. Makes you think.

The years of struggle, deals done,

Those pioneering changes won.

The sink must be a new design

I've never found one tied to mine.

Today is Gridlock Day plus one:

It can't have been a lot of fun.

I hope you find the peace you seek.

Expect the same thing Sunday week,

Unless, of course, you go by train.

Then add two hours - or six for plane.

And lastly, when you hit the sack,

Remember that the clocks go back.