The wasp rages in its belljar; it fights
against the glass, that warping of the air
it would escape, or fracture by its wrath.
Its vehemence consumes the spirit of the place,
signals its will to break free of constraints
imposed upon an insect superman…
…to break and fly and hunt and find and sting
and harm the world! Except for wasps;
for only wasps can matter.
Ignored as if a lie, its pitch and volume rise,
shrill and edged and utterly relentless,
until it dominates the room.
In passing, I thought it was a good day for:
1) The organisers. Res ipsa loquitur.
2) The pall bearers. Get it right and no-one notices; one slip and you’re forever notorious…
3) Justin Welby. Not a natural orator, he rose to the occasion.
And it was a bad day for:
1) Princess Pinocchio. Just for being there. How does she have the effrontery? Don’t answer that.
2) Liz Truss. For reading one of the best known and most moving passages in the English language as if it was a list of the runners and riders in the 3:15 at Catterick.
3) Network Rail. Wires down outside Paddington. It happens occasionally, no-one’s at fault. But when your luck’s out, it’s out.
However, the real winners were communal feeling, tradition and continuity. Not my natural territory. But sometimes dissent is best to be still.
Intercede for us!
We lost our saints; now you’re gone,
more than Majesty…
Please weep for me, Argentina!
The truth is you were my model,
All through my wild days,
My mad existence.
I made my promise,
I will devalue.
And as for fortune, and as for fame,
I always pursued them with zeal,
So it seemed to the world they were all I desired
Although they’re illusions.
Whom god would destroy she first makes mad! I am crazed,
I have no answers, I hope you
won’t notice all my brazen lies!
Now cry for me, Argentina!
The truth is I will be reckless,
I’m always shallow,
A sad example.
I want to borrow
Your worthless money.
(With apologies to Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber)
Maintain the Advance! 