Q

Grand Prix time again the quick and the dead.

The Coronavirus Team what more need be said.

Their mystery entrant, too late, see red.

All sound and fury for the overfed.

The chequered cloth black phlegm white sediment

Falls across both bad and good, savings spent.

Noise and spiral turns to an upset event

As the viral burn asks where it all went.

Quite quite quiet is (quoth) quaint quarantine.

Quatorze we fast forwards to: quelling scenes

Of quoits (forsooth), quaffing, books about queens.

No, cannot quibble with a long Long Weekend.

Do our own Decameron and spend

Unquestioned quiescent quietude. End.