Great question, sir. Follow me.
Here you go: where Shakespeare ends
poetry begins. That goes for our shelves
and for my views on Shakespeare.
Good day to you. And off he bounces,
his knees clicking like the top of a critics’s pen.
The tassels on his fluorescent yellow and green
face mask dance like they want me to follow.
He fires a finger gun at a colleague
organising the self help section
who raises a thumb that has seen better days.

© Carl Burkitt 2021