Tag Archives: satire

BYE

climate change
has not touched me yet

maybe
warming is not real, neither
have I been seared
nor likewise broiled

the talk of the Poles South
and North shedding
their huge
ice
   falling apart
does not seem
real to me now

as I lie here
      contemating the eternal
verity that we as species
will continue
      forever as we are

the dread of our demise
      just brush by

SUREFIRE

Ah, yes,
social Darwinism
be your inclination
pitbull terriers —
      they
are your thing;

but would you pit, against
a tank, this,
or some other poem

without ceramic armour,
without armour-piercing
depleted uranium shell?

For all
       poem got going for it
is knowledge of shadow, and
pulse of humanity

and that is
sure-fire defeat, on
hiding to nothing,
as a Nobel Laureate does suggest
himself suggest

Oh, if only tanks could be
stopped in their tracks
by bloke
     with shopping bang

barrels get so stuffed with
gorgeous flowers things
might
       misfire; shells
and bullets simply melt

in the face of all
         that sweetness and light
(and
     metaphor, let
us not forget)
the antennae
   of the species
       wrote on paper, in clay,
on the digital universe

who dare order?
         what dare fire?

but then, who has ever
really talked to the mind of a tank?
               


IN SUPPLY

IN SUPPLY

I saw you wearing
the darkest, hugest
sunglasses imaginable

necessarily so, what else
might shield your blue blue eyes
from the Heavenly Sun in
full heavenly glare

light so bright
you would be forgiven
for imagining
that light
to be everywhere

and there you were
tucking not
into ambrosia
but a fat, juicy, meaty
(perhaps
the meatiest pie
imaginable)

knowing that
everything you had
ever dreamt
is
here realized

a paradise of demand
never short
of supply.

RIGHT AS SHE BLOWS

RIGHT AS SHE BLOWS

Human rights
human rights

you have to squint
through a microscope

to get the gist of where
she is coming from
in her text
on human rights

Oh my humongous Suella
Sulla Braverman Braveheart

you will stand by your principles
fight for them lie
for them
kill and almost
die for
them (not
really, but it rhymes)

and rhyme is good
and euphemism too
and repetition
a zillion times

uncovering the frustrated
inner poet in you
(not that you would
ever stoop to elegy
not
the job of
Home Secretary)

to bewail
lost migrant lives.

DOLLDRUM

DOLLDRUM

we have drifted
we have drifted

an accursed mariner
at the till

      we have drifted
into a patch of dead sea

our island settling
somewhere
            between Shakespeare’s
garden and Eliot’s Wasteland

as droll and dyspeptic
      a dolldrum as
                    ever can be
zombified
      from head to toe

the specter that shadows
our humanity

FLAMETHROWER

FLAMETHROWER

got  job as
gardener

put a flamethrower
and (Zyklon-B
out of stick)
gallons of
agent orange
in my hand

can’t believe what
happened to this garden:
not a single rose
red or white to
fight
    hack to death over

what the Hell since
my ancestors invaded
           has happened
to this place?

Oh they brought you silk
they brought you cotton
brought you
    Asian and African wisdom

brought you Rolling Stones
Kinks Zeppelin
               and Beatles
(same river
        wound its dark way
past our homes)

and now I must massacre
weeds to save
      the bowling green surface
recite Prufrock under
the collapsed
gazebo

       once walked the streets
with Swift and Pope from
Ashton to
              Rusholme

once
       when the youth stuck a
big fuck you
    through lips and nose
deconstructive style
               meaning anarchy baby

death throes felt
       that we all must
             surely see
     
fuck you-s through