Contributor: ADAM WHITWORTH

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We view the prospect before us
with the uncertain mood of our weather
clutching all kinds of lucky charms
in shallow sleep we stormed away from the mainland
now all our fingers are crossed
that we don't wake up up
to our necks in deep water

Our seers are forecasting like mad
but who can really see around corners
no-one here would like to
find themselves adrift in a slo-mo crash
but our brave faces harbour fears
of tragic pile-ups on this treacherous road

A fever runs throughout the land
all that could be said to others gallops
round and round our splitting heads
yet at the chance to speak we trade
slogan for slogan laughing off the gravity
posed as bouyant and light-headed hahaha


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