In Christchurch we have had our troubles, Lord knows. Earthquakes, the odd bush fire, mosque attacks, all manner of tribulations. Ah, but one short decade on from the quakes, look at the progress we’ve made… Are making.

I Saw.

I recall it was nigh on ten years ago
When a mighty earthquake laid the old town low,
Even our Goth thick Cathedral fell to pieces-
Why, my wonder in Gods protection never ceases.

Rather than pass the collection plate
The good and faithful would call on AllState,
And lo, the parishioners put in their claim,
But no, AllState said ‘God acting up is to blame.’

Bishop and congregation began to pray-
Sometimes You work in a damn peculiar way-
If the Churches insurance claim gets denied
In times of trouble surely God should provide?

But Gods flock stand as a house divided,
What to do when the cheque is provided?
To replicate the folly they’ve always known?
To roll up their sleeves and roll away the stone?

Yea, for years lawyers and the devout
Have both fought about putting a hand out,
Short tempered preachers continue to rail,
Long winded lawyers find more devilish detail.

All the while the Cathedral sits there,
A tumble-down godforsaken rotten nightmare,
The font is awash in dandelions and nettles,
While factions moan, the ruin groans and settles.

Stray cats wander through the pews, row upon row,
Through broken stained glass a cold wind doth blow,
This habitat for cats gives one pause to think-
Gods house must harbour one Hell of a stink.

Finally, when the filthy lucre is disbursed
The Church Council thinks- (there’s always a first,)
After years of genuflectual prayerful thought
They’ll rebuild- pending a leeengthy builders report.

This rebuild requires more than a dab of mortar,
True, the riven roof does turn rain into holey water,
But when Gods congregation look up on high
It would be nice not to see Your sky. And stay dry.

Behind rusty chain link moulders a pile of rubble;
Is resurrecting it worth all this blessed time and trouble?
It would take a miracle and a fortune to be raised,
Or, God willing, another earthquake so it can be razed.

There’s funds been raised to re-raise the roof
But this lofty rebuild will still prove insurance proof,
Best bring in a wrecking ball and end the debate,
Drain the water, toss in the towel, write off the slate.

This sunny Sunday I struck off on a stroll uptown,
The sodden sight and site only served to bring me down,
Up high in yon rafters rafts of pigeons coo and sit,
Who wishes to be worshipful, knee deep in poo and shit?

 

 

©Obbverse

Who can get by without a phone these days? Well, if you have your phone insured, the loss is borne by them. That’s the bottom line…

Don’t Call Us.

When your iPhone takes a swim
Chances of it working are pretty slim,
Water sure does take its toll
On an Apple bobbing in the bowl.

The insurance company took the call,
They heard the story of your iPhones fall,
Though insurance is so damned expensive
It sure do pay off when it’s comprehensive.

The cheque for a replacement is in the mail,
Ah, but hold on, this isn’t the end of this tale;
Your tenure with the new Samsung was all too brief
Due to the gall of some light-fingered French thief.

The insurance company took the call, again,
Second time around the loss was easier to explain,
The first one might have taken quite the while
But this time the details were fresh on file.

Then came another whirlwind dash to the continent
Where crashing to the terrazzo the Samsung went,
Another call is made on a phone that’s literally cracking up;
My, aren’t the numbers on these new phones backing up?

Another cheque arrives, with a covering letter
Advising one to look after ones new phone better,
With thanks for making full use of your comprehensive claim
But asking you to please- please not renew it, if its all the same.

©Obbverse