Elon had a little saw
He used his saw for cutting
Jobs and money from the poor
And posing with when strutting
All out and shouty with his saw
Raw fact and sense rebutting
Or trousers down behind a door
Before a mirror, nutting
© Gail Foster 21st February 2025
USA
So Many More Coffins Than You
There once was a President who
Didn’t give one fuck or two
‘It’s tremendous!’ he said
‘We’ve got so many dead!
And so many more coffins than you!’
There once was a President who
Said that science was simply not true
‘All this talk of a spread
Is all fake news!’ he said
‘What’s that smell?’ he said. ‘That’s the dead.’ ‘Ew.’
There once was a President who
Killed his country. ‘The size of the queue
Of our glorious dead
Is enormous!’ he said
And it was. And it grew. And it grew.
© Gail Foster 28th March 2020
Humpty Trumpty
*
Humpty Trumpty built up a wall
Of hatred and bullshit, in no time at all
So full of hot air and albumen
Bumptious Numpty
An egg amongst men
…
Trumpty Bumptious, sat on his wall
Infusing the air with a sulphurous pall
Obdurate ovoid, and odious smell
Truly Trumptious
The egg from hell
…
Rambunctious Trumpty, sat on his wall
A slug on his own at an ugly bug ball
Blot on the skyline, and bombastic bore
Humpty Dumptious
An egg to ignore
…
Dumpty Trumpty, sat on his wall
The King of the Fools looking down on the small
Dark is his shadow and yellow his yolk
Unctuous Humpty
The egg that spoke
…
Trumpty the Numpty, sat on his wall
Stirring the winds of the world to a squall
Summoning forces too violent to quell
Presumptious Trumpty
A shit in a shell
…
Humpety Trumpety, sat on his wall
Spitting out poison and hubris and gall
As stable and safe as a knife on a ledge
Precarious Numpty
An egg on the edge
…
Trumpty the Terrible, sat on his wall
The sun on his hair and the land in his thrall
Waiting to hatch from his keratin keg
Horrible Humpty
The dangerous egg
…
Humpty Trumpty; the egg with a plan
To set race against race, and man against man
Let us conjure a mischievous wind to unseat him
Fry him in Mexican spices
And eat him
*
© Gail Foster 2nd Sept 2016
The Democracy Lark
The sweet song of the democracy lark
Once told of a bright and hopeful dawn
Now there is only a strident bark
And the whimper of sycophants that fawn
And worship the Trump and his massive wad
Lovers of money, with racist views
Vote for Mammon’s dodgy God!
The democracy lark is singing the blues
© Gail Foster 2016
God Help the Disunited States
Call for the Dalai Lama, Christ
Mohammed, and the Fates
Call the Druids, call the Rabbis
Call the angels, and their mates
Call the scientists, the physicists
To measure and collate
Call psychologists who understand
And artists who create
Call the clowns who see things sideways
And the writers who narrate
Get them sitting round a table, midst
The wildly spinning plates
With biscuits, tea, and fairy cakes
And someone to translate
Doing icebreakers, and mindfulness
And role play, and debate
And let them come up with a miracle
This madness to abate
To stop the Trump thing in his tracks
Or trip him on a trait
For Hilary’s annoying
And her shiny hardness grates
But Trump will make the USA
A horrid hell of hate
Let’s hope that this committee
Of all the good and great
Who wield the wisdom of the world
And spiritual weight
Can devise some cosmic strategy
The Trump thing to deflate
Before America becomes
The Disunited States
© Gail Foster 2016