Botch Job by Saul Huggins

Saul Huggins: Mid-fifties, spent most of the past twenty years self-employed and because of that happy fact have been able to travel around a fair bit, sometimes to other countries. Not so much at present! No real experience regarding writing, certainly nothing published. Wrote a couple of poems to pass the time.

Botch Job

Exposing our leaders for what they really are

Comes oh so easy for this inventive little bug. 

Unable to show Itself, yet able to shine a light 

Onto human nature which the Bard could not

Manage with a million skilled words: Compare 

The organic method in which fools, liars, and 

Charlatans are revealed in the natural glare of  

Covid 19 – to the stagy artifice of Shakespeare.

(Humans have rarely been worthy of the grand

Emotions he awarded them nor capable of the

Exquisite verse he installed on their tongues.)


No, this inaudible bug is not in need of a voice

To reveal human defects in their purest forms. 

Moreover, it grants us knowledge by proxy in 

The teaching of a new word – Furlough.  And 

As well as bringing the meaning of this word 

To light, the versatile bug also blasts a glaring

Beam onto those with cold heart who go on to

Abuse the ethics and practice of this new word. 

Both Education AND Edification from Covid 19 –

Cruel yet gifted bug, finding ways to enlighten. 


Upgrading the air for wildlife by

Cutting planes, cars.

Curbing the airs of the Famous by

Keeping them caged.

Purifying the air in the hoods by

Making Rap Its bitch. 

                                                 Purging the streets of crime, 

                                                 It is the Only Show In Town,

                                                 Owning every single person

                                                 In a planet becoming ever

                                                 Cleaner and purer with the

                                                 Presence of Its invisible self.


Perchance, after Its everlasting

Demise, Its greatest bequest

Can be a subtle worldwide 

Release from servitude 

To the hideous speed 

Of life so rooted in 

Love of money

As to render 





                                                                    (but don’t bank on it)