Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

Nothing ever seemed to happen in Springfield;
There was never anything good on TV.
Then the newsflash came through about the bomb.
Lisa stopped trying to electrocute Bart
To watch. ‘Looks like we’re in deep doo-doo’
Said Homer, going to fix himself a snack.

The hairs stood up on the back of granpa’s neck -
All thirteen of them. Who would save Springfield?
There was nothing anyone could do
Except sit and keep watching TV.
By the fourth ad-break Homer was bored.
Who cared anyway about some stupid bomb?

‘Didn’t Professor Frink make a bomb-
Defusing robot?’ asked Bart. Yes, but there was a snag:
It kept blowing up. A tearful Marge bared
Her soul to the cowering shoppers of Springfield -
‘We could lose everything, even TV’ -
And hid the family savings in her hair-do.

Then Homer had an idea, chewing his do-
Nut - let Mr. Burns take care of the bomb.
That weirdo! He didn’t even have a TV.
Homer got on the phone to Burns, snug
In his fallout shelter, and hollered: ‘Save Springfield!’
Now he was thirsty, and headed off for a beer

At Moe’s. Jasper was crying into his beard
At the bar: soon he’d be dead as a dodo
And nothing would remain of dear old Springfield
But roaches and fallout, all because of the bomb
Some two-bit punk was using to cock a snook
At folk like him and get some time on TV.

Burns was on the job though. Of course he watched TV;
He’d staged the whole thing to help him sweep the board

At the Oscars with his new film Sneak
Attack, a Wellesian thriller. ‘Think of the dough
I’m going to make’, he chortled to Smithers. The bomb
Was a hoax - what a lucky escape for Springfield!

TV announced the news to the people of Springfield.
Bored again, Homer forgot all about the bomb
And sneaked to the fridge for a beer. It was empty. Doh!