A few scribbled lines of free verse for the occasion:
The Pilgrim Season
We recall and await the pilgrim season
to go for a walk again and talk,
as dust lands and time zones fatigue,
about love, law and poverty, yeah;
to trash, as one, buckled politicians,
handcuffed judges, and lock-jawed pop-stars
whose managers spin and harangue about bills.
There is less sympathy for the incessant
filling-in of royalty forms, so look at the camera,
mess around and pull faces,
oh you handsome devil, Morrissey!
like the diddymen fan, the viz comic reader,
the charming man leading
the one true free life born you are,
our own masked happiness merchant.
Happy birthday, Morrissey! x