Sand ammunition everywhere
The thin blue line rushed off its feet
As angry voices won't retreat...
I speak, of course, of Belgian coast
Where happy punters like to roast
In this unaccustomed heat
What better place is there to meet?
With extra beachward trains non-stop
All social distancing forgot
The burgomaster in despair
Day trippers bans from coming here!
But trains continue unabated;
Coastal towns rejoice, elated
As hordes arrive expecting thrills
And silver tingles in the tills...
A powder keg! These social norms
Thwarted as the crowd now storms
With angry cries and won't obey;
For the police – it's not their day!
(c) Poet in the woods 2020
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