AstraZenica nearly killed my dad,
AstraZenica made me really mad.
He only had the shot a few weeks,
Then the lights went out,
his roses lost their cheeks.
They say that all he had was a stroke,
nothing unusual for such an old folk,
But they forget his had the jab,
and wanted to know,
was he feeling real bad.
I dunno
cant you see,
he hasn’t even finished
his cup of tea.
His talking a little half dutchy talk,
nothing we’d understand
its outa sorts.
His not able to get to his feet,
grab the stretcher,
we’ve not got all week.
But they prodded and poke,
With all those weapons they tote.
checking pulse checking able
checking if his normally capable.
Then wheel him out,
no not the table.
It never fits,
through the front doors gable.
So I lift him up,
under the arms,
he feels quite week,
No more farming.
And we wave him off,
wait for the doctor.
Who’ll call us promptly,
when and where his tabled.
So what do you know?
he had another.
On the way into,
the hospital cover.
Did a scan and ran,
into the helicopter van.
Flew off ubruptly,
singing Medico’s for Jan.
So anyway,
as it seems,
they operated,
got the clot from his meme.
went in through his leg,
now thank goodness,
his resting,
not dead.
They did great,
at Monash Center,
saved him despite,
governments do hanker.
They don’t know,
messaging RNA,
or how that’ll playout,
and the end of the day.
But his back to his old,
grumpy self,
Laughing at others,
pains and swells.
So blessed be the system were in,
It’ll save some and leave others in doubt.
Thanks to the nurses and doctors did help,
I wonder if they’re less likely,
to be squandering their health!
I know I know,
Its your health for some wealth,
you work while your able,
despite it being hell.
But can’t you see,
words can burn,
context contained,
the references once learned.
Were not at school now,
kids you will see.
The worlds unforgiving,
no site left unseen.
You may see,
the weather today,
not knowing if it closes,
in on your parade.
Set you back,
a dozen and ten,
makes you take stock,
of that gift your born in.
Skin in the game,
bone all intact,
Then there hope for you yet,
Its just another setback.
pickup your cloister,
pickup your roll,
pickup the scrotum,
close your arsehole.
Look at the ceiling,
rise for the occasion,
which letter best,
reflects your sensation?
I’m all bend out of shape
on o,
Its rings most truly,
tell me to go.
because I do,
because I look,
because of the sound,
because of the book.
With the culmination,
of the internet,
we’ve been exposed,
to things best left.
because of of,
because of to,
because of mom,
because of you.
Its on again,
its off again,
its over,
or ready to shoot again.
Who asks the questions,
which clown rools the roost.
I do not know the half of it,
which cow can sloop a ghost.
If it behooves you,
and I know it will,
watch the wrinkles disappear,
pucker up,
if your able,
give yourself a different smile.
kiss the air,
but kiss it high,
There a god up there,
in the sky.
Lots of stars,
to appreciate,
lots of stars,
to navigate.
I wouldn’t be mesmerized,
or blown away,
by the tails visible,
as they shoot away.
There’s lots space,
fOr us to please,
Ourselves and Others,
frOm under our sleves.