I am, said Trump, the Chosen One
There are no other Gods but me
Fall on your knees before the Son
I am, said Trump, the Chosen One
Come not with peace but with a gun
Not for me then against me be
I am, said Trump, the Chosen One
There are no other Gods but me
© Gail Foster 22nd August 2019
~ on the anointing of Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson
So what if it was just a drunken dare
Quis? Ego! Made at Eton long ago
I dub thee Boris of the Golden Hair
Servus, servum, servi, servo, servo
So what if afterwards they went to town
and ordered tiny sparrows stuffed inside
six rare exotic birds and chased it down
with virgins’ tears in mouths so open wide
one could believe designed to fit the poor
in at such times there are no partridges
Amo! Amas! Deus! Deum! and more
Dom Perignon! To Boris! Boris is
The Chosen One! So long ago, the dare
At Eton, or more probably, elsewhere
© Gail Foster 24th July 2019
Boris made a little bus
That’s lovely, Boris, Nanny said
Another bus. That’s nice for us
And went and put it in the shed
Boris made another bus
And painted it in blue and red
That’s nice, said Nanny, made a fuss
And went and put it in the shed
He’s made another fucking bus!
The Nanny to the butler said
You know I like it when you cuss
He said, a quick one in the shed?
I would, said Nanny, but it’s chock
Ablock with buses. Little shit
‘I’ve made another bus!’ The cock
And straight in to the shed with it
Boris made another bus
I made it all myself, he said
Another bus. That’s nice for us
And went and put it in the shed
Boris made another bus
Enough! said Nanny turning red
I’ve had enough of buses, plus
There’s no room in the fucking shed!
Boris bought another shed
Look, Nanny, now there’s lots of space!
That’s lovely, Boris, Nanny said
A little smile on her face
© Gail Foster 26th June 2019
Oh God, it’s the Conservatives
Dear, must we have them round for tea?
They’re such a shifty bunch of spivs
Oh God, it’s the Conservatives
As slimy as and armed with shivs
For stabbing those who disagree
Oh God, it’s the Conservatives
Dear, must we have them round for tea?
Oh God, it’s Johnson and McVey
and Sayid Javid. He’s a cock
And Gove and Raab have come to play
Oh God, it’s Johnson and McVey
I’m frightened. Make them go away
Be quiet and ignore the knock
Oh God, it’s Johnson and McVey
and Sayid Javid. He’s a cock
Oh God, they’ve seen us. Gove is at
The window waving. Now we’re fucked
Coee! Says Sayid. Rat a tat!
Oh God they’ve seen us. Gove is at
The door with Andrea, and that
Is Johnson with his shirt untucked
Oh God, they’ve seen us. Gove is at
The window waving. Now we’re fucked
Oh God, it’s the Conservatives
Too late to stop them coming in
And cutting lines up with their shivs
Oh God, it’s the Conservatives
All bullshit and superlatives
Lock up your daughters and the gin
Oh God, it’s the Conservatives
Too late to stop them coming in
© Gail Foster 11th June 2019
Disappointment? Disbelief?
Dismay? Disgust? Is there a word
Like Weltzschmerz to describe the grief
The disappointment, disbelief –
As if a word would give relief
A’s for Arseholes and Absurd
Disappointment, disbelief
Dismay, disgust – is there a word?
The Emperor! How bright his crown
Is shining in the blinding light!
There’s unicorns upon his gown!
The Emperor! How bright his crown!
All hail! We follow him to town
(‘Dear God, he’s got his cock out!’ ‘Quite’)
The Emperor! How bright his crown
Is shining in the blinding light!
There are no words, it seems to me
Analogy will have to do –
A piss up in a brewery
An Emperor, who seems to me
To have his cock out – do you see
The tumbleweed and smell the poo?
There are no words, it seems to me
Analogy will have to do
Disappointment? Disbelief?
Dismay? Disgust? There is no word
Like Weltzschmerz to describe the grief
Distrust, disgust, and disbelief –
There are no words to give relief
In Parliaments of the Absurd
Disappointment, disbelief
Dismay, disgust – there is no word
© Gail Foster 30th January 2019
*
There once was a government who
Were divided and hadn’t a clue
How to manage the exit
From Europe and Brexit
You first. Oh no, after you.
…
There once was a government who
Were at war. It was blue upon blue
As they edged down the halls
With their backs to the walls
You first. Oh no, after you.
…
There once was a government who
Were divided and nobody knew
What to do, so they bitched
And they backstabbed and stitched
Up each other. You first. After you.
*
© Gail Foster 12th September 2018
Shall I vote or not?
She died for you, have you forgot
Who fought for you so you can say
Shall I vote or not today?
Shall I vote or not?
She fought for you to have the choice
To use your vote, and use your voice
Or stay at home today
Shall I vote or not?
What sister are you who forgets
The suffering of suffragettes
So you can vote today?
Shall I vote or not?
They fought for you, do you forget
The women who don’t have it yet
The vote, or yet a say?
Shall I vote or not?
What, woman, are you mad or what
They fought for you, have you forgot
The price they had to pay?
Shall I vote or not?
My sister, listen, hear the sound
Of hooves of thunder on the ground
Lest we forget the day
Shall I vote or not?
They fought for you, have you forgot
Who fought for you so you can say
Shall I vote or not today?
© Gail Foster 6th February 2018
