Franz Kafka where are you now?
You were a clown, a barrel of laughs,
the perfect non-worrier
after being accused of murder
you talked of cucumbers
while you opened fetes
you were a great wit,
you were even a person.

Meanwhile somewhere in Britain
True paranoia purses its lips
sucks on the wrong end of a biro
puts on the uniform of the boys in blue
from the inside
(it’s always an inside job)
Franz, Franz where did you go?