DEAD CERTAIN

Oh me, Oh my,

I’m calling 999,

Seven dead bodies laid out on the floor,

And a menacing figure towers over them all,

It’s ritual murder - of that I’m sure,

So I swing into action and make this call.

Oh me, Oh my,

Police have just arrived,

Killer at large – they’ll act with urgency,

Seaside café - village emergency,

The beat of his drum and the crash of the waves,

Seven already who can’t be saved.

Oh me, Oh my,

The police have stormed inside!

Darkness, candles, flowing robes,

A killer in Satanic clothes,

Lifeless bodies litter the floor,

I’ve counted seven – they could find more.

Oh me, Oh my,

I’m curling up inside,

Not Satanic robes as I’d believed,

But a loose fit blouse with floaty sleeves,

And the yoga teacher comes to the door,

As seven live bodies arise from the floor.

Oh me, Oh my,

Inside I want to die,

Those undead bodies had not been axed,

No rigor mortis, just relaxed,

I mistook the scene for a brutal murder,

(I trust that this will go no further).

Oh me, Oh my,

I’m completely mortified,

My dignity’s dead, too late to be saved,

Feel the crash of my heart and the beat of the waves,

My part in the drama can’t be downplayed,

And I wish I could cancel the call that I made,

And the police stand down and laugh and laugh,

As I hurry off home down the coastal path,

And soon in the post

(Oh me, Oh my),

I get a lifetime pass

(Why me? Oh my),

To the weekly (Oh yes!),

New Moon (Oh no!),

Living, breathing, yoga class.