poems

jesus boris

~ jim clayton ~ 1 Comment

but Boris said: Suffer little children, and forbid them not to come unto me
(so long as they don’t want any more shit for free
especially nutritionally
and stare at me hungrily
and twitter on endlessly
about food poverty
they’re just being greedy
I mean honestly
find another St Francis of Assisi
you think it’s easy
being this bright and breezy?
with all you paupers gawping and making me queasy?)

for of such is the kingdom of Tory heaven
(now DO fuck off, I’ve got luncheon at eleven)

And he laid his hands on them, and departed thence
(after tossing some lighter ones over the fence
and evicting some others for non-payment of rents
and pleading for easier public events
away from the mob and the malcontents
like proving his regal munificence
by awarding contracts like Christmas presents
to a bunch of lovers and old school friends
glad-handing oligarchs and presidents)

here endeth the lessening

dante – speak!

~ jim clayton ~ 3 Comments

Okay – it’s time / get me Brosnan on the line / tell him the whole goddamn volcano’s about to blow / and he’s the sexy scientist in the know / with a fabulous balance of intellect and machismo / a Phi Beta Kappa Geo Joe / a denim jean / sex and seismology machine / with biteable ears and a brain between / his smile’ll make your knees knock / your heart stop / your panties drop / and when he bites his lips / and cutely quips / you’ll blow your chips / and fall to the floor in a fabulous fumbling squall of hand slips / sorry… land slips…

I digress /  this goddamn poem’s a mess / get me a professor / the kind of snake-hipped, well-equipped love confessor / an expert on rocks and an expert kisser / checking the readout while checking the mirror / a colossal fossil fact giver / who’ll make your flint glint and your shale shiver / the kind of / deep and sexy mine mind / you only meet from time to time / someone preppily predisposed / to make you loosen all your clothes  / who has the cutest wrinkling of the nose / whenever he talks about pyroclastic flows…

Damn you, Brosnan!

robojohnson

~ jim clayton ~ 2 Comments

I had this nightmare

deep in the infernal workshops of Eton / comes the sound of heavy metals beaten / something awful occurring / sawing & drilling & whirring / sparks / arc flashes of acetylene / illuminating the hellish scene / till silence falls at last / and the quivering news reporters gasp / when bolts get thrown / the main doors blown / and boys rush out deploying their phones / as crashing into the taped-off zone / a gigantic robot PM appears / wild white hair and saucery ears / eyes clanking wide / hands flexing restlessly at its side / steam from its neck and other spots / babbling inanities non-stop

and after a moment’s hesitation / for huffing and puffing and basic orientation / the dreadful creation / begins its quest of devastation / rampaging round the nation / kicking down houses, hospitals, schools / using the Houses of Parliament as a football / picking up the Town Hall / shaking the screaming councillors out / stamping on them as they run about / laughing at their comical posing / unzipping a monstrous copper pipe and hosing / them over / then completing the general takeover / by tossing into the smoke-filled air / a handful of nanobots / Jenricks, Goves and Hancocks / who weave and dive with high-pitched yells / bewildering the poor population as well / till there’s no-one left with sense enough to tell / what needs to be done to break the spell

luckily, I wake up

NHS Heroes: Jason and the Lab Reports

~ jim clayton ~ 2 Comments

Jason / attracts the attention / of one of the hospital pathology lab technicians / by jabbing her with the point of his spear / Over here! / he snaps / process these before I collapse / and saying thus he deposits / a bunch of specimens from his toga pockets / CRP and FBC / from the bronze giant Thalos on Crete / U’s and E’s / please / for King Aetees / LFT, TFT and Bone Profile / for the hideous and horribly motile / skeleton army / I fought and diced like calamari / and… and culture & sensitivity for the swab / I took from the gaping, golden gob / of the ram’s skull yet appending / the Golden Fleece at my journey’s ending /… but just at that moment the door blows wide / and a helmeted Hercules thunders inside / his leather trousered legs spread wide / transfusion panniers swinging at his side / Zeus and Hera! The day I’ve had! / Take these offerings before I go mad!

NHS Heroes: The District Medusa

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

The District Medusa’s / confused / but used to it / curses as she struggles to tie on a mask / past the rattlers, vipers and asps / ignoring the patient’s frantic objections / that he really doesn’t want an injection / flailing and wailing with his eyes squeezed shut / but / when the DM cracks her dusty knuckles / he opens his eyes so she smiles and chuckles / advances the needle but the needle buckles / okay stony / you great big phony / she roars / tossing the broken needle on the floor / grabbing her bags and kicking through the door / I’ve got a busy day and I just can’t plan it / when every patient turns to granite

public announcement

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

now – I know many of you are wondering / how a PM so blatantly bent and blundering / could still be up here thundering / about public duty / civil responsibility / new possibility / gesturing energetically / his hair photogenically / awry / flexing his fingers into the sky / like Lear having a good old crazy-cry / there, on the… on Haywards Heath / flailing and wailing, furious beyond belief / that the job of Prime Minister / could’ve been so damned difficult to administer / with nothing like the levels of Churchillian adulation / he wanked about in the Gladstone bar at graduation

no, my people – that’s all in the past / consigned to the social history bin at last / and thus the reason for this televisual broadcast / this rich and nationally nutritious repast / whose viewing figures will never be surpassed / (you see how well I work it? / I’ll be even better on the after dinner circuit) / now is the time for a serious reset / like having the soup instead of the baguette

so at the risk of losing my public speaking permit / and to paraphrase the immortal words of that Most Muppetous of Muppets, Kermit / To introduce our policy – That’s what I’m here to do – It really makes me happy – To introduce to you… / The Three Tier System!

(To simplify the thing so it’s easy to remember / we’ve linked it to the class of which you are a member)

Thusly

Tier Three – is the NHS junkies / state school flunkies / wrench wielding monkeys / and anyone else without the moolah / to live anywhere south of Peterboorah

Tier Two – is the doubting Derby & Joaners / the middle-class, pain in the arse Red Remoaners / the lefty lawyers and artsy groaners / the Guardian reading eco-homers / the food bank donors / and sundry other disposable personas

Tier One – is the Oxbridge Eliters / the gentlemen’s club and country retreaters / the tax and grouse beaters / the market makers / slush fund rakers / contract breakers / working class haters / and anyone who’s ever worked at the Telegraph or Spectator

I do hope that clears up any confusion
and in conclusion

always, always remember…

Rule Britannia! Britannia, rule the Waves!
Britons ever ever ever shall be slaves!

I thank you

CSI lullaby

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

Porky Pig knows what he did / how he spun the chamber and flipped his lid / hit the throttle, the bottle, the skids / went off grid / lay low in Barcelona, Bilbao, Madrid / had a kid / all his careful work undid / heaven forbid

The Big Bad Wolf’s done playing around / waives the 5th in Chinatown / huffs and puffs on the smokes the pigs pass round / sure – yeah – it’s true, I blew the house down / on them preternatural porcine clowns / buried their bacon beneath the ground

Humpty Dumpty gets sick of the fence / the painted smiles, the thin pretence / the heightened suspense / so he rolls up in court & self-represents / blows his eggy vents / makes no friends, no case, no sense / gets dragged away by the civil defence / it’s eggstremely ugly and intense

Georgie Porgie bends the rules / servicing high-end swimming pools / extending his pole and other tools / for the benefit of all the five-star fools / who post online he’s slow but cool / hopeless & hapless, hung like a mule

Little Miss Muffet finds peace at last / smiling at the nurses through the plexiglas / for once in her life she feels first class / off the tuffet, off the grass / she’d been way out of character, man – totally miscast / her curds absurd and her whey too fast / but at least now whatever comes to pass / them mother fuckin’ spiders can kiss her ass

so nostradamus corners me in the pub and says

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

Listen to me, my friend…

Cometh the hour, cometh the man / in bulletproof teeth and orange tan / advisers fanned / applause canned / as he stares & stands / one handmade Italian shoe on Maine, the other on Portland / his rinky-dink cock catastrophically in hand / cranking out poison across the land 

Cometh the man, cometh the hour / a name writ big on a tall glass tower / T for the Trust in the Truth he sours / R for the Riches he devours / U for the Underlings garlanding him with flowers / M for the Mouth, P for the power / to Trump his Tremendousness louder & louder…

You couldn’t stand me the price of a drink, could ya…?

how it came to this

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

it happened immediately after the debate / Trump was terrible, Biden wasn’t great / the whole thing a shovel of shit on a plate / with a generous side-order of humiliation / for the tortured, television watching population / so they thought about what they could put in its place / something to galvanise the electoral race

someone at Fox / was first outta the box / she said why not dress them as comedy mascots? / Republican elephant, Democrat donkey? / with an umpire dressed like Walter Cronkey / with his hair standing up and his moustache on wonky / timing them out with a horn he can honky? / the costumes could be padded with plenty of cushions / to protect them from all the kickin’ and pushin’ / three rounds of trunk to hoof combat outta do it / here’s a rough drawing – let’s get to it

so that’s what they scheduled for 2024
– if only Trump hadn’t started the third world war

my first little book of trump

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

A is for America, land of the free
B is for Bussing in the military

C is for Covfefe, Confusion, Collusion
D is for Denial, Distraction, Delusion

E is for Editing the lies in Wikipedia
F is for the Fakes in the Lamestream Media

G is for Golfing in Mar A Lago
H is for Holding another embargo

I is for Ivanka’s consulting fee
J is for justices six vs. three

K is for the Kids in the KKK
L for the Losers who get in their way

M is for Melania’s ‘I really don’t care, do u?’
N is for Nominations, rushing them through

O is for the Orange of his big, sticky paws
P is for the Phony Emoluments clause

Q is for Questionable accounting procedures
R is for Rescheduling corporate foreclosures

S is for Slander, the Locker Room snicker
T is for Tantrums on TV and Twitter

U is for the Unforeseen virus’ reach
V is for Vaccinating with kitchen bleach

W is for the White House, the Office, the Garden
X is for Exonerating his friends with a pardon

Y is for Yearning, the dreams of ‘You’re Fired!’
but
Z is for the Zillions he’ll sneak when he’s retired