Clap a Tory, Pay a Nurse

Week after week
They clapped their hands
And banged their pans
From rainbow bedecked windows
And cars and vans.
Hundreds of thousands
Acting with care, thought, and precision
Led to this decision.
“The NHS saved my life” Spaffer said
But what he meant
Was all they’re worth to him is one percent.

And Hancock,
Responsible personally
To the horse racing fraternity,
Pays tribute with words,
His deep pockets reserved
For contracts for corporate chums.
“Get out there and tell them you saved lives” he said
But what he meant
Was all they’re worth to him is one percent.

Nadine “I’m a former nurse, me” Dorries,
The first Covid MP,
Seeks to defend the economy.
Never surprised
By an MP’s pay rise,
But with Rishi is in accord
That this is all they can afford
While recognising sacrifice, commitment and vocation
Tells the nation
What she meant
Was all they’re worth to her is one percent.

When they tell you “level up”
What do they mean?
The numbers dead hid behind
A vaccination screen.
No money for heroic nurses’ pay
When Dido’s folly costs a million pounds a day.
There is a simple message delivered in this verse:
Next time, clap a Tory, pay a nurse.

The Tory Party Donor Money-Go-Round

A company called Efficio won an NHS contract
Worth six billion pounds, they say,
While the fella that owns the company that owns them
Bunged seven hundred grand the Tory Party’s way.
A nice little payday for Mr Kolade.

While Scott Fletcher, care of Lowry Trading
Donated a quarter of a million quid, no less.
His reward, about which we are complaining:
IT cloud contracts for the NHS.

Watch the Tory Party donor money-go-round.

There’s Meller Designs supplying PPE,
Although their normal range is home and beauty
Of millions: A hundred and sixty-three, procedure free,
Courtesy of the DHSC.
And in return for government contract offers,
Mr Meller’s donations to Tory Party coffers.

Three hundred and fifty million to Medacs Healthcare.
You’ll find a familiar Tory Party figure there.
Its Michael Ashcroft, former Conservative peer
Who’s donated over six million pounds in his career.

Watch the Tory Party donor money-go-round.

Globus (Shetland) Limited
Got ninety-three million for FFP3’s
“Should we double our donation to the Tory Party?”
Well, we reckon that the answer was “Yes, please”.
No surprise that Agustsson, king of PPE
Eats with the Leader’s Group society.

And computers for kids doing lockdown learning,
Do you reckon there’s a tory donor in there earning?
Correct! You were safe to assume
That Computacenter founder Philip Hulme
Supported Nick Herbert, Conservative MP
From 2009 to 2019
While wife Janet donated a hundred grand too
To the campaign to keep the country voting blue.

Watch the Tory Party donor money-go-round

Because when you say “Pandemic”, they say “Profit”
Who’s gonna make the Tory Party stop it?


A Million Pounds a Day

How would you spend a million pounds a day?
Buy two small flats in Walthamstow,
Or a big one, round Hackney way?
You could give up work and visit Marseilles,
Or park a new Ferrari, on your new driveway.
If you sliced your drive, you could buy the fairway,
Or put on a play, on Broadway.
You could spend a million pounds on Monday,
And have a million more again on Tuesday.
You could hire Elton John to play
Or Adele, or even Beyoncé
For three performances a day.
You could buy a small painting by Monet
Or quite a few by Bernard Buffet.
You could wear a new pair of trainers every day,
Then give ‘em away.
And never mind coffee, you could buy the café.

But if you find yourself round Downing Street way,
You’ll send your million pounds a day
Your mate Dido Harding’s way
Who gives it all to Deloitte, they say
For test and trace that even today
Is still not okay.

Maxine and Henry

The OCEANS1 have spoken and this is what they say:
Maxine wants the vaccine but hesitant Henry
Will leave it for another day.
Maxine figures that “yes” is the word
But “no” is the word triggering some of the herd
Or “not yet” like Henry’s hedging bet.
What’s good for Maxine is good for you
As the herd starts to build immunity too,
Not like Henry’s individualist minority view.
Now, Henry says he has no truck with conspiracy
But his hesitancy is evidently
Led by talk of speed and efficacy
And side-effects versus getting the disease,
But please.
The difference between Maxine and Henry
Is clear to see.
Maxine cares about us,
Henry cares about me.

1 Oxford Coronavirus Explanations, Attitudes and Narratives Survey

According to Paul

Over eighty thousand people died
Or under four hundred according to Paul
Who doesn’t count the over-60’s at all
Or anyone with a pre-existing condition
Like asthma, diabetes or hypertension
Or maybe just walking with a limp.

(You can check out the numbers for yourself here).

My Postie’s Being Bullied by Iain Duncan Smith

My postie’s being bullied by Iain Duncan Smith
With his smug face and folded arms
On posters showing all his charmless DWP-ness
And shaming sick statistics,
A careless Tory trick which
Doesn’t mention COVID at all.
A deliberate omission
From a man in his position.
“43% are absent from work” he cries
To his allies
About workers they despise
Though, in truth, deserving of a pay rise
For tireless work on the pandemic front line
Getting your mail to you on time,
Because when it’s not just a touch of the ‘flu
Post every other day will do.
So, I am righteously miffed
That my postie’s being bullied by Iain Duncan Smith

Boxing Day

Henry Hooray Huntingdon Hunter
Pretends to no one it’s a trail hunt
With his pinks and his horse and his Boxing Day booze
He’s got the horn for a bit of sport
“I say, fine day” for folk of his sort

Julia Hooray Huntingdon Hunter
Would rather be a supporter
Her and her daughter
4×4 around
Checking out the hounds
And the horseback clowns

Terry the terrierman
Keeps his dogs in a box
Next to shovels and spades
Used to dig out a fox
King of the quad bike
A doffer of caps
Not the nicest of chaps

Sebastian, field secretary
The collector of subs
From the killers of foxes
And murderers of cubs
Rides at the rear
Prefers the hilltop scene
Likes to imagine that his hands are clean

Walter whips-in
For Henry Hooray Huntsman
Summoned to trouble shoot
By Henry Hooray’s horn
He’s paid to spot foxes
He’s paid to control hounds
To keep them out of the neighbours’
Gardens and grounds
But when called to explain
A fox ripped limb from limb
It was never anything to do with him

Inspector Carl Copper
See nothing wrong here
A country pursuit
That the locals hold dear
If there’s a breach of the peace
It’s not that of the fox’s
And he’ll brook no disruption
Or interruption
Of Henry Hooray Huntingdon Hunter’s day out
Today or any other day
He’ll just say “go away”

The hunt saboteur
Recognises them all
Julia Follower
Henry Hooray’s hunting call
Terry the terrierman
With his dogs in a box
Walter whipping-in
Denying chasing a fox
Sebastian the secretary
Who never gets near
And Inspector Ineffective
Who will see nothing here

So when you’ve finished the tofurkey
Tucked the last mince pie away
The sabs will still have work to do
On Boxing Day

‘Tis the Season to be Jolly Careful

We stream supporterless football
And pass punterless pubs
In tearful tiers
Over clubberless clubs

Now the variant’s British
And tranmission’s enhanced
Making quarantined skiers
Scarper home via France

The taxis are starving
Ambulances sated
Your Christmas tree’s wilted
And Santa’s deflated

We’ve got troublesome bubbles
With persistent coughs
While Boxing Day hunts
Ride with law-breaking toffs

“Christmas must be saved
Like St. Pauls, at all cost”
A spaffed exhaltation
Fingers firmly crossed

‘Tis the season to be
In tiers four, two and three
‘Tis the season to be
Jolly careful

Behave as if You Have the Virus

Behave as if you have the virus, they said.
So, I went back to bed.
They said,
Work from home if you can work from home.
So, I got my work on the phone
And said,
I’ve got the virus
Because they said
Behave as if you have the virus
And if I had the virus
I’d be certain to tell my work on the phone
Who then sent everyone else home,
Because they clearly hadn’t been
Behaving as if they had the virus
Well enough.