Afterwards

The principalities, the powers, the politicians,
The ones who pose in the spotlight
Center-stage, and magnetise is as they stalk
Towards bankruptcy, murder, betrayal, suicide,
And other traditional exits

The audience leaves, discussing nuances,
A scatter of sweet-papers, ash,
Smells hanging around behind. The audience leaves.

And in they come, rolling up their sleeves,
With hoovers and mops, bucket and brushes and Brasso,
Making it ready for the next time, nobody watching, With small uncompetitive jokes, with backchat
About coach-trips, soaps, old men,
And a great sloshshing of water.

This is where we ought to be. Not
Up on the stage with the rich and the Richards, Rehearsing already their entrance for the next house, The precise strut that registers power,
But down on our hands and knees,
Laughing, and mopping up.

- U. A. Fanthorpe

Spending the day with my sister-in-law, Nicky; niece, Katy and nephew, Dan in Nottingham. We went for a lovely walk in the grounds of Wollaton Hall, which featured in the 3rd Batman Movie - The Dark Knight.

This is Katy, who has had some experience in stage managing, posing for my blip poem today.