Wednesday 20 March 2013

PARLEY MEANT

Wenches in the trenches,
Tenses in the benches,
Creaking under lardy-arsed MPs,
Machiavellian wannabes,
Their manifestos manifest lies,
Impresses no one and when he dies—
The MP exposed as a glutton for pies—
Revisits his childhood,
Whimpers and cries.

Smart, pressed trousers clothing corpulent thighs,
Hang below sagging torsos emitting loud sighs,
At political parties’ parties where:
A caged parrot’s parasites proves more ‘Polly tics’,
Than politics are discussed as the bar dries.

Anachronistic puppets enact charades of charlatans,
Investing significance in futile rituals contemptibly familiar,
They are over familiar with members of their staff,
Whom they seduce, wine and dine until, like a fatted calf,
Their conquests surrender with a laugh.

Power corrupts as everyone knows,
In ways a corrupt individual usually shows,
As obviously as Pinocchio with his growing nose,
Weak and corruptible from head to toes,
Like a stinking shadow, their corruption follows them wherever they go.

Ignorance is bliss and much more than this—
It’s frequently a claim made by those taking the piss,
The game of justice played out in public appeases the thick,
While those ‘caught out’ don’t miss a trick,
And wealthily retire long before they anonymously expire.

Mansions and baubles, a life of excess,
Are readily available when you attain success,
Defined in modern terms,
It equates to grubbing about with worms.


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