Conservatives

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

Covenant: The New Politics of Home, Neighbourhood and Nation, by Danny Kruger; a review in sonnet form


The honourable member for Devizes
Though erudite enough, is dark as night
Dispensing judgement from the Tory right
And those he doesn’t damn he patronises
His pretty prose is peppered with surprises
‘Transgressive?’ If you hold it to the light
It reads ‘Degenerate’ – but then my sight
Is tainted, like the pagan he despises

I tried to understand his big idea
His notion of the order – order, what?
Is that the one that Boris quite forgot
In favour of some Bolly and a beer?
I give it three. The poetry is fun
The politics are horrid. Sorry, hun

*

© Gail Foster 15th September 2023

Boris Had A Little Think

Boris had a little think
It wasn’t going well
And so he had another drink
His queasiness to quell

‘I like a nice Merlot’ he said
‘Although a cheaper wine
It gets me proper off my head
And leaves me feeling fine’

Boris poured a massive glass
Of Merlot, and some more
And woke up fallen on his arse
Upon the kitchen floor

‘I blame that Rishi bloke for this
Theresa May for that
And anyone who takes the piss
In opposition sat’

‘You mark my words’ he gestured in
The mirror, ‘I will rise
Like Jesus Christ and – where’s the gin?
I’ve run out of supplies’

He wobbled to the kitchen and
Cried ‘Carrie, what’s to do?’
And with his member in his hand
‘Look what I’ve got for you!’

The house was empty though, the halls
Were of his wife bereft
He felt a sinking in his balls
Was no-one, no-one left?

‘Cooee!’ Thank God, it was Nadine!
How fragrant she! They kissed
‘My God, my love, where have you been?
Come, help me get more pissed’

And so she trotted to the shop
And bought him wine and beer
Prosecco, porn, and fizzy pop
Enough to last a year

And oh the party that they had
‘You’re wonderful’ she gushed
‘I know’ said Boris, ‘and I’m bad’
‘I know you are’ she blushed

And then there was a knock and it
Was Jacob – ‘Come and join!’
Said Nadine, flopping out a tit
And tickling his groin

And it was perfect. Jacob in
His gimp suit, Boris drunk
And Nadine high on fancy gin
‘What was the thought I thunk?’

Thought Boris. For he had forgot
Quite who he was and why
Was he Prime Minister, or not?
And he began to cry

But not for long, for sweet Nadine
Did dry his eyes and pour
Another drink, for she was keen
To get him on the floor

‘You’re wonderful’ she said
‘I know’ said Boris, ‘so are you’
(Though anyone would do in bed
When he had had a few)

‘And baby I got Brexit done’
‘Oh say it once again
Shakespearean and sweetly spun
You giant among men!’

We’ll leave them to it there, I think
They few, they happy few
Nadine the prettiest in pink
And Boris in the loo

And Jacob dressed in latex. Ew
What some folk do for kicks
‘At least we’re not in the EU’
Said Boris, between sicks

‘You OK, hun?’ said sweet Nadine
‘Of course I am’ he said
‘And I will rise again, my Queen
To bed, my love, to bed!’

© Gail Foster 10th June 2022

Who Are The British People Anyway?

Who are the British people anyway?
The ones who with Conservatives agree
And only them? Are we allowed to be
The people now? Are we allowed to say
A word against the government today?
Free speech, you say, but not the BBC
It’s not for that you pay the licence fee
To let the lefty woke get in the way

The who? The woke, the liberal elite
The Linekers, the Attenboroughs, you
And every other person in your street
Who disagrees with what the Tories do
Be quiet you, while we turn up the heat
It’s not as if you’re British people too

© Gail Foster 10th March 2023

What Company They Keep 

On the introduction of the phrase 'anti-growth coalition' to the Conservative lexicon

The Ministry of Silly Words devised
A phrase designed to bring about division
So dreadful it was worthy of derision
One has to wonder why one is surprised
Or that one is, with others so despised
Described as being in some coalition
So comprehensive in its composition
That definition would be ill-advised

Wait - anti-what? The anti-what are who?
The enemy. The enemy is me?
And anyone who dares to disagree
Apparently, with anything they do
What words they use to lull us all to sleep!
How dull they are. What company they keep

© Gail Foster 7th October 2022

Elizabeth Said 

I'm delighted, said Liz, to have won in the vote
Even though I am up against Rishi, the scrote
I'm not looking behind me I'm looking ahead
You can trust me. I'm Liz Truss, Elizabeth said

I'm excited, said Liz, and I'm ready to hit
The ground running. I'm up against Rishi, the shit
But I'm really alive even though I look dead
You can trust me. I'm Liz Truss, Elizabeth said

I'm invited, said Liz, by my mates the MPs 
To go up against Rishi. I know about cheese
And I know about pork so I'll keep us all fed
You can trust me. I'm Liz Truss, Elizabeth said

I'm far sighted, said Liz, though I struggle to see
And I'm up against Rishi, who's richer than me
There is nothing unsavoury under my bed
You can trust me. I'm Liz Truss, Elizabeth said

There's wrongs to be righted, said Liz, I'm the one
To right all the wrongs what the government done
Though there's nothing at all going on in my head
You can trust me. I'm Liz Truss, Elizabeth said

© Gail Foster 20th July 2022

Hard Work It Seems Is Not Enough

Work hard, they said, and so I did

Till midnight sometimes and beyond

I read and did as I was bid

Work hard, they said and so I did

I always was that sort of kid

There never was a magic wand

Work hard, they said and so I did

Till midnight sometimes and beyond

 

Work hard, they said, and so I read

And didn’t go to bed till noon

Believing every word they said

Worked hard until my fingers bled

And all the world was in my head

There never was a silver spoon

Work hard, they said, and so I read

And didn’t go to bed till noon

 

Work hard, they said, and so I did

And you’ll be what you want to be

No path in life will be forbid

Work hard, they said, and so I did

I always was that sort of kid

But never went to Eton, see

Work hard, they said, and so I did

And you’ll be what you want to be

 

Work hard, they said. For kids like me

Hard work it seems is not enough

The Bs I need were not to be

Work hard, they said. For kids like me

There is no university

Hey, it’s a hard knock life, kid. Tough

Work hard, they said. For kids like me

Hard work it seems is not enough

 

© Gail Foster 15th August 2020

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. Quick, the lock!
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. Quick, the lock!

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