• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 08

On Watching Eurovision This Year

We love a spectacle. We want a show.
We gather for the camp, the eurotrash,
The drama of it all as countries pick
Or exclude their neighbours,
Blow their budget on mechanical novelty,
And stage in sincerity what
Europe will soon turn into a meme.
We come together every year,
Not united, often ignoring crises
And downplaying seriousness with glitter,
To sing across country and language borders.
Yet this year, this unprecedented year,
This year after the one that wasn't,
When rules had to be strict and
Contingencies laid on thick,
Any 'we' coming together felt newly fresh,
Finally allowed, even though it was through
Our screens just like the rest of the year.
Was just the sight of a live audience,
A ridiculous, overblown music show,
And performers crying with joy to be onstage
Just enough to forget that glass division,
That satellite delay, that beamed-in unreality?
Oh, that we felt just for one evening,
In a time of separation, that bit closer,
That bit more allowed to be messy and fabulous.

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