Carrie Symonds sniffed the air
And wondered what the smell
That came from Cummings’ office was
Now he had gone to hell
How odious the man had been
And oh how he did hate her
So much that he had left a fish
Behind the radiator
Carrie Symonds got the fish
And threw it in the bin
How very nice the office looked
Without the Cummings in
But all the same there did remain
A funny sort of smell
And so she had it swept and cleaned
By MI5 as well
© Gail Foster 14th November 2020
Politics
Cummingsland
What land is this where we allow
The likes of Cummings to be king
All England bow and kiss his ring
For this is Cummings’ country now
What land is this where we allow
One man to say if birds can sing
Or bells be rung, or bees can sting
Must this be Cummings’ country now?
What land is this where we allow
The likes of Cummings to dictate
Are we the masters of our fate
Or is this Cummings’ country now?
What trick of light, what sleight of hand
Turned England into Cummingsland?
Good men of England, take a bow
For this is Cummings’ country now
© Gail Foster 14th February 2020
The Elusive Danny Kruger
Why Danny, so cute, but elusive
Ornamental and yet unobtrusive
Preferring to stay
At the end of the day
In locations a tad more exclusive
Why Danny, you see, while there’s cheese
In the pond and the voters to please
You could pop into town
Take the M4 and down
To Devizes (one ‘z’ and two ‘e’s)
Why Danny, you’ve come from above
Like a glorious bright Tory dove
With the light on your wings
And your parachute strings
And a note signed from Boris with love
Why Danny, we’ve hoodies that you
Can hug if you’re so moved to do
And a little white horse
And a Poundland of course
(that’s a ‘P’ and two ‘d’s and a ‘u’)
Why Danny, we wish you were here
Come the day will you even appear
Perhaps in The Bear
Or the Pelican, yeah
Bet you won’t pop in there for a beer
Why Danny, Devizes is nice
But in Wiltshire there’s mud and there’s ice
And Hammersmith’s so
Very pleasant you know
(Spell Devizes? One ‘D’ and ‘e’ twice)
Why Danny, you’re cute enough, true
But you’re Boris’s man through and through
And you’ll only appear
About four times a year
(There’s no ‘u’ in Devizes. Who knew)
© Gail Foster 4th December 2019
UPDATE: This morning, much to my surprise, I received a poetic retort from Danny Kruger (see below). Whilst I won’t be voting for him, one has to say Well Played.
Leaving Brexit Behind Us Forever
Why Gail, so full of surprises!
Thanks for the tips on spelling Devizes
I’m sure that we’ve met
But I haven’t seen yet
Through one of your many disguises
Are you the farmer from Manton who said
Have Defra gone off their head?
They’ve banned neonics
(The fleabeetle fix)
And so half my rape crop is dead
Or were you the soldier who proudly explained
This is how Yeomen are trained:
We leave them out in the rain
For a month on the Plain
And those that survive are retained
Perhaps you’re the teacher from Oare
Who said schools badly need more
Money – they’ll get it!
Sajid has said it!
The Budget will cough up for sure
But seriously, Gail, I’ll endeavour
To bring our country together
We’re badly divided
(Did you vote Leave? I did)
And I want Brexit behind us for ever
© Danny Kruger 6th December 2019
American Heresy
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
Quis? Ego
~ 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 🚌
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
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
Parliaments of the Absurd
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
Brexit Backstab Bitchfest
*
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
They Fought For You, Have You Forgot?
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
