A poem by David Van-Cauter
Tonight’s regular broadcasts are suspended
on every bloody channel
as we mourn the loss of one our beloved icons.
You will mourn with us collectively
no top of the pops
no bake off
and on the radio
no jokes, no dance music
only sombre tones
because he is dead.
You didn’t know him
and he was very old
and has been ill for some time
but he is dead and we are shocked
and you should hang your head.
Breaking news: he’s still dead
and somebody else is sad.
We have interviewed this six-year-old
and she is also sad.
Why aren’t you sad?
Look, he did all this work for charity
and despite his worldwide-famous face
he was an intensely private man
who suffered from anxiety and issues of self-worth
but he channeled that and gave it back
by distributing medals and hope.
What have you done?
Whatever you think of his public persona
(a few gaffes here and there)
he genuinely made a difference,
he touched people,
and the impact of his deeds will be remembered
for generations to come.
So many ordinary folk looked up to him –
you should too –
listen to the military salute,
kneel, pleb, and give thanks
for the unforgettable life and work
of Sir Jimmy Savile, OBE.
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