unexpected items in the bagging area

unexpected items in the bagging area
Dishy Rishi stashing the loot in
a bank account Infosys bagged off Putin;
Jeremy Hunt in a rented suit
for a cosplay cabinet photoshoot

unexpected items in the bagging area
a stop motion claymation Boris Johnson
trading looks with Gloria Swanson;
Michelle Mone in a golden basque
where it came from please don’t ask;

unexpected items in the bagging area
Nadim Zahawi’s market forces
ripping off nurses, heating horses;
Jacob Rees-Mogg and his coffin of fixes
Haribo haloes and crucifixes

unexpected items in the bagging area
Therese Miscoffelees in an amateur CATS
chewing the sets and smoking rats;
Oliver Dowdy stuck in a lift
giving his reflection pretty short shrift

unexpected items in the bagging area
Suella Braverman in beard and moustaches
plastic nose and big dark glasses;
Grant ‘Thor’ Shapps and his mythical hammer
on his way home to Tory Valhalla

Please wait! Someone is coming to assist you…

the (un)divine comedy

They should put up a big red sign at Dover
a block print banner to flutter over
the border kiosks around the port
(to give you plenty of time to abort):
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here
which reads a little way south of severe
but let’s be honest and riotously clear
we’ve suffered the Tories for twelve long years

I mean – Dante described nine circles of Hell
but even HE would’ve baulked at TWELVE

We’ve had Cameron and his referendum
The Maybot jerking ad infinitum
the virus years of Boris the Clown
piffling and waffling, his pants falling down
and when he was finally tossed with the trash
a million years of a leadership clash
which no-one could vote for – SO ironic
ending up with Trussonomics
which kicked a hole in the economy – thanks
so she got fired for spooking the banks
and now the Austerity Brothers, Sunak & Hunt
who say they’re honest but let’s be blunt
one’s a banker and the other’s a former health minister, I think?

but

at least the PM knows about struggle
with worries that’d make the rest of us buckle
it must be hard getting by when you’re wealthy
houses in Kensington, apartments in Chelsea
mansions in Yorkshire, Santa Monica
that’s why you’ll find him playing harmonica
‘Spare some change? I’m overwhelmed;
those swimming pools won’t fill themselves’

anyway

two more years and then we vote
one last chance to stay afloat
but if that fails then – shrug – oh well
I’ll skateboard screaming through the circles of hell

the braverman sea shanty

(with apologies to Nathan Evans)

There once was a young, sharp-toothed KC
The ship she sailed was The Lizzy T
with a cheer and a wave for the ERG
Oh blow, bully MPs, blow – HO!

Soon may the Braverman come
To bring us laws draconian
One day when the Tories are done
We’ll take our country back – HO!

She acted tough, her role begun
a step to the right of Attila the Hun
The E C H R soon undone
and trans rights hit the deck – HO!

Lines were crossed & rules were broke
Rwanda was the place for folk
who fled from war in a leaky boat
they got the old heave ho – HO!

Soon may the Braverman come
To bring us laws draconian
One day when the Tories are done
We’ll take our country back – HO!

Until the next election comes
we’ll have to bear Suella’s drums
her war on woke for The Englishmun
see that lawyer go – HO!

As far as I’ve heard the fight’s still on
the sails on fire and the rudder gone
but Braverman sings her dreadful song
and beats the country down – HO!

Soon may the Braverman come
To bring us laws draconian
One day when the Tories are done
We’ll take our country back – HO!

status update XXV

I’m a punk, cosplay rule Britannia / sugar water hair and saltwater manner / rusty penny farthing with a broken wicker pannier / waving a dustbin lid and spanner / exhausted from fronting / all the laws the government’s corrupting / till I’m dragged from the saddle and tied up with bunting / to a stake at the heart of the midsummer fete / by mad morris dancers who just can’t wait / raging and chanting and dancing round the square / shaking their bells and bladders in the air / as the faggots snap and the straw bales flare / and I wave to the public up in the stands / shouting Come on in, the bonfire’s grand!

A tisket, a Tasket / question? don’t ask it / it puts the lotion in the basket / while we sit with our popcorn and gobble up the shocks / Brad’s gun shaking saying what’s in the box / Gwyneth and her Goopy locks / who kissed a frog and got monkeypox / a bunch of daffs and a box of chocs / this stuff rocks / so just breathe and allow it / maybe like me you can’t live without it / and if not – shrug – it’s finished, over / no credits, refunds, definitely no closure / guilty of underperforming and overexposure / good – that’ll show him / that’s what you get for writing a poem

But hey! Donald J Trump is back on the scene! / introducing a beauty queen / with a message of peace and an AR15 / but he goes off cue / straightens his wig and speaks directly to you / what the fuck does he want us to do? / go home, we love you, you’re very special / but first take your clothes off, I wanna see ya wrestle / shrug – it’s just another monster we made / from recycled films and gatorade / we’re a sucker for stunts and a big parade / it’s a simple question of economics / a firm handshake and flag semiotics / media optics / liberal neurotics / shut up and finish the antibiotics

Relax! / I saw on Twitter Jesus is back / delayed off the plane by an attack of the snacks / picking up socks and a script for Xanax / but once he’s got his sandals straight / and finally made it through the gate / he’ll jump in a taxi and I can’t wait / to see him give his sermon on the mount / on TikTok or wherever the fuck this shit comes out / ‘cos the cattle are lowing, the baby awakes / and they’re about to storm the stable with whatever it takes

I’m buffering on the edge of disaster / a glass of warm water and a sticking plaster / fearing the end but wanting it faster / while Dorothy smiles and sings Somewhere Over the Rainbow / which is sweet and all but I just don’t know / as fantasy destinations go / there aren’t many deals out of Gatwick or Heathrow / meanwhile / I’m slumped in the chair a prisoner of freestyle / spiritually flat, poetically senile / pen as in penile / drooling while the mice are playing / and whilst I love the optimism they’re displaying / all I’m saying / is just supposing / the exits aren’t opening but slowly closing / and the cat’s not sleeping but only dozing

running up the onion jack

Come all ye fine fellows that follows the government
With a way hey yah and a slap on the back
Please stand to attention and sign our poor covenant
As we run up the Onion Jack

Hark to your Chief, Ol’ Blo-Jo Johnson
Like someone stuck hair on a walking condom
He’s a windy ol’ fake with the devil’s delight
In any decision that makes us look shite

I prithee mates swerve Cap’n Priti Patel
She’s listing to starboard and furious as hell
You’re certain to worsen her cursin’ belligerence
If you talk of humanity, fair play and immigrants

There’s Raab on the beach with a pina colada
Wanking o’er the Spanish Armada
He’s way too busy to make the call
To help with the imminent fall of Kabul

There’s a cry from the bosun! Young Master Williamson
Swinging from the rigging in a muddle and then some
We leave him awhile ‘cos his wailin’s delicious
Draw lots about cutting him loose for the fishes

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier and Gove
He really is an extraordinary cove
He’ll smile like a sloth as he diddles yer udders
Then drop overboard to snag up the rudders

Come all ye fine fellows that follows the government
With a way hey yah and a slap on the back
Please stand to attention and sign our poor covenant
As we run up the Onion Jack