Brexit Sonnet No. 51 – ‘A Tray of Haddock’

A tray of Haddock upended and dispatched,
A theft of profiles used for greedy gain,
Friends to shoulder up to as plot is hatched,
And teacup storm leaves them in passport pain.
Can I remain; yes… but quiet I mean,
Can I stay silent with tongue held hard and fast ?
Can I accept this damage and make no scene?
Can I say Sonnet 50 is my last?
For three long weeks my pen lay still and sleeping,
For three long weeks I uttered not one word,
For three long weeks the nonsense kept me weeping,
Whilst Brexit greweth more and more absurd.
So on we go to stars as yet unknown,
And from the future, take not this stupid loan.

©Keith Murphy