A January 2021 poem inspired by that poignant notice currently prevalent on many performers’ websites.

No shows booked at present,
no writing out the set.
No AA route consulted,
no mike stand to forget.

No packing of the product
for interval good will.
No cash box to rely on
for next week’s grocery bill

No queuing at the Toll Road,
no asking for receipts.
No tangle with the SatNav
in random one way streets

No stomach, nervous jangle
to haunt the afternoon.
No driving back from Bromsgrove
under the merciful moon.

No after gig analysis,
no post performance high.
No Newport Pagnell pit stop
for chips and jaded pie.

No shows booked at present,
new dates coming soon.
The hoped for Shangri-La,
return to Brigadoon.

For this should surely change us
in spirit, head and heart.
But how to be together
when standing yards apart?