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The Day of the Leaflets

Alex Saynor

Tuesday, July 2nd, 2024

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 The day the leaflets came, election sludge
we slip into like a soft play ball park,
they promised us all a new start.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 The current incumbent wouldn’t smile,
just said ‘It’s strange how all these missiles fly’
and how all my calls get emoticon laughs.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 The day the leaflets came, I couldn’t distinguish
all the colours and names, so picked one up
but realised then they aren’t the same
(though they play the same game).

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 This manager, an old boy, would lift his head
and go Route One. ‘Why play from side to side
when BANG. You pass and it’s done.’

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 This younger one, a slightly rougher Pep,
would keep it on the carpet in rotating circles,
a planet locked to a continuum of analytics.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Another one would resolve all crises,
past and present fused to common sense devices.
‘You just put the right people in the right places.’

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 And the current incumbent looks down sadly
as time slips like sand through his fingers

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 while the favourite’s the one who drinks and fights
and gambles and parties into the night.

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 The day the leaflets came, hopes rose
then sank like remnant yeast in beer
alive for a time in the declining year.

Notes

Imagining a managerial election

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-day-of-the-leaflets/