Herd immunity

We’ve all had enough of the comfort
Of experts, sunlit uplands demand untold depths
Of bracing misery: as exquisite as the cane
That’s good for you. Remember Dunkirk

And pack your little boat with bog roll
There’s no crisis that
Can’t be solved by shopping
Think how we bought through the Blitz

Golf as the bombs dropped
Bowls as the ships neared
Britain where pain ends up
As an anecdote and we’ll

All lose loved ones (wipes a tear)
Before their time
But it’s how they’d
Want to go, doomsters, gloomsters

Remoaners, we’ll beat this thing with sang-froid
This is about us, this British crisis
And uniquely us, this is our time
You’ll laugh about this, in a few weeks

(and if nothing else
Think about the inheritance, eh….
I mean, it probably won’t
Be you…)

So chin up chaps
Toss your experts over the side
(something about White Cliffs
here, it’ll be such a comfort)