The Love Song of J. Alfred Blair
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Or upon a trolley in a corridor,
Which is hardly the Government’s fault,
The NHS we inherited was rubbish, you see,
And these things take time.
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
Which will be entirely deserted
When councils really get the hang of antisocial behaviour orders.
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question . . .
But the best thing is to ignore it,
And say something about economic growth.
. . . In the room the women come and go
Unless they’ve been slapped with an ASBO.
Musings and Snippets from a recently retired JP. I served for 31 years, mostly in west London. I was Chairman of my Bench for some years, and a member of the National Bench Chairmen's Forum All cases are based on real ones, but anonymised and composited. All opinions are those of one or more individuals. JPs swear to enforce the law of the land, whether or not they approve of it. Nothing on here constitutes legal advice.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Poetry Corner
I couldn't resist this, lifted from today's Times column by Giles Coren, scion of the well-known North London family-owned humour-milling business:-
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