The essence of the Tory
so clearly shines out here:
nothing to do with Europe,
Education, or real beer;nothing to do with rail-links,
Trident, or Referenda -
but to snatch a nonagenarian,
from family tear asunder.Deporting off to lovelessness,
empty, remaindered days,
in bleak defeat and bitterness,
confusion and amaze.It's the heart of Tory virtues:
"Sure, we'd deport the old.
They take the food from banker's mouths.
Down the river! Sold!"But, ah, if one should die on us,
by stroke or heart attack,
we might consider their appeal,
and fly them back.Apart from bad publicity,
why should we give a damn?
She's not our relative, you know,
not our grandam.Why you lot sign petitions
is mystifying us;
and it makes our legal minions
stamp and cuss,clogs up our smooth procedures
to process you like meat,
interrupts our dinners:
digestion's not so sweet.The true face of the party,
when our smiley masks so slip,
are the yob-like gurns of our nasty turns
and the curl of the bottom lip.The essence of the Tory
so clearly shines out here:
nothing to do with Europe,
Education, or real beer;nothing to do with rail-links,
Trident, or Referenda -
but to snatch a nonagenarian,
from family tear asunder...................
Ailing, 92 year old facing forced removal from UK.
A petition, signed by 75000 people, made the Government pause - only to allow the family to present medical report and legal submissions tomorrow.
Google it at change .org.
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Wintering
PoetryIt's yet another MajorSeventh. Hop on the big shoulders and look ... Lastest poems are always posted last in my collections. Winter. So, expect sparse gardens, late autumn and wintry countryside, wry philosophy and humour, tenderness towards litt...