The Seven Bins On Fire Without The Smoke

The Tories though. We watch them in dismay
All shifty liars, some said, others thought
That some were reasonable, if you caught
Them in the light, or on a summer’s day
You’d listen to the things they had to say
At least without becoming overwrought
Or thinking of the wars our fathers fought
Or falling on our creaky knees to pray

What is this shit? The fantasies, the lies
The seven bins on fire without the smoke
The artificial wars against the woke
The desperation and dogwhistle cries
For what? For populism and the cause!
The conference erupts in wild applause

© Gail Foster 4th October 2023