HarryVegas
Well-known member
Conversations like this always put me in mind of the national treasure Roger McGough's great poem, Icarus Allsorts ...
‘A meteorite is reported to have landed
in New England. No damage is said…’
A littlebit of heaven fell
From out the sky one day
It landed in the ocean
Not so very far away
The General at the radar screen
Rubbed his hands with glee
And grinning pressed the button
That started World War Three
From every corner of the earth
Bombs began to fly
There were even missile jams
No traffic lights in the sky
In the time it takes to blow your nose
The people fell, the mushrooms rose
‘House!’ cried the fatlady
As the bingohall moved to various parts
of the town
‘Raus!’ cried the German butcher
as his shop came tumbling down
Phillip was in the countinghouse
Counting out his money
The Queen was in the parlour
Eating bread and honey
When through the window
Flew a bomb
And made them go all funny
In the time it takes to draw a breath
Or eat a toadstool, instant death.
The rich
Huddled outside the doors of their fallout shelters
Like drunken carolsingers
The poor
Clutching shattered televisions
And last week’s edition of T.V. Times
(but the very last)
Civil defence volunteers
With their tin hats in one hand
And their heads in the other
CND supporters
Their ban the bomb badges beginning to rust
Have scrawled ‘I told you so’ in the dust.
A littlebit of heaven fell
From out the sky one day
It landed in Vermont
North-Eastern U.S.A.
The general at the radar screen
He should have got the sack
But that wouldn’t bring
Three thousand million, seven hundred
and sixty-eight people back
Would it?
‘A meteorite is reported to have landed
in New England. No damage is said…’
A littlebit of heaven fell
From out the sky one day
It landed in the ocean
Not so very far away
The General at the radar screen
Rubbed his hands with glee
And grinning pressed the button
That started World War Three
From every corner of the earth
Bombs began to fly
There were even missile jams
No traffic lights in the sky
In the time it takes to blow your nose
The people fell, the mushrooms rose
‘House!’ cried the fatlady
As the bingohall moved to various parts
of the town
‘Raus!’ cried the German butcher
as his shop came tumbling down
Phillip was in the countinghouse
Counting out his money
The Queen was in the parlour
Eating bread and honey
When through the window
Flew a bomb
And made them go all funny
In the time it takes to draw a breath
Or eat a toadstool, instant death.
The rich
Huddled outside the doors of their fallout shelters
Like drunken carolsingers
The poor
Clutching shattered televisions
And last week’s edition of T.V. Times
(but the very last)
Civil defence volunteers
With their tin hats in one hand
And their heads in the other
CND supporters
Their ban the bomb badges beginning to rust
Have scrawled ‘I told you so’ in the dust.
A littlebit of heaven fell
From out the sky one day
It landed in Vermont
North-Eastern U.S.A.
The general at the radar screen
He should have got the sack
But that wouldn’t bring
Three thousand million, seven hundred
and sixty-eight people back
Would it?
, with an NBC suit and a sachet of “Orange powder”........then order a taxi to RAF Mildenhall and strap Tobias Feckwhit to the first missile.
