Tag: poetry

Capitalism and Greed

“We’ll make fortunes, I bet,” Capitalism said.
“Agreed,” said Greed.
“At every step there’ll be a contract to be let.”
“Let them to me,” said Greed.
“I’ve no experience of health or PPE,
But I’ll make big donation to the Tory party.”
“Let’s make a Covid killing,” Capitalism said.
And Greed agreed.

“The usual arrangement?” Capitalism said.
“Agreed,” said Greed.
“Obscure procurement rules unashamedly bent?”
“Sounds good to me,” said Greed.
“Don’t worry if we make a mess,
We’ll just make out that it was the NHS.”
“Let’s make a Covid killing,” Capitalism said.
And Greed agreed.

“They’ve already laid the ground,” Capitalism said.
“Just what we need,” said Greed.
“To make a pretty penny off a pandemic pound.”
“They’re just like me,” said Greed.
“A bag of rocks in a suit with a mop on the top
Will help make sure that we profit from the lot.”
“Let’s make a Covid killing,” Capitalism said.
And Greed agreed.

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A Minute’s Silence

A minute’s silence, a Union Jack,
A press conference, a doorstep clap.
A doorstep clap, a Union Jack
A press conference, a road map.
A road map, a Union Jack
A how many vaccines today recap.
A vaccine recap, a Union Jack
A minute’s silence, a doorstep clap.
A doorstep clap, a vaccine recap,
A minute’s silence, a Union Jack;
Won’t bring all those people back.

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The Princess and the Presenter

Promoting her show bought her a stalker
A breakfast programme professional talker
Who’d say “Not all men” while just the sort
Who’d hack kids’ phones and not get caught
Thought he should have a princess, by right
On account of being rich, male and white
But she married her prince and left him a frog
And his mid-life crush, a one-sided dialogue
As she quite rightly saw fit to ignore
His emails, text messages and more


But Hell hath no fury like the male gaze scorned
And he’d met Epstein, she should’ve been warned
That the gutter press is his dominion
And trial in the court of public opinion
His stock in trade, where he took up arms
To do her reputation just as much harm
As he could, thinking only of himself
While claiming she was lying about her mental health
A step too far for ITV
As he parted company with GMB


But just wait for the “I’ve been cancelled” cry
As he gives his career another try
On a new opinion-led news station
Serving blinkered news to a blinkered nation
Where opinion is often fuelled by hate
And despite the facts given equal weight
Where like minds will give the airtime
To his “She ghosted me” incel whine
So, prepare to boycott that news organ
And let’s have a curfew for Piers Morgan


(There’s a lot of him about)

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Something’s Got to Change

If not all men are rapists
And not all whites are racists
Why’s the loudest shouting out
Far too much of what about
And not enough of something’s got to change?

Because if not all men are rapists
And not all whites are racist
Then they should actually say this
That some of us are racists
And some of us are rapists
And something round here has got to change.

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A Trip to Mars

You can buy a trip to Mars
With three billion Mars bars
But Dido does a million and a half a day
On her defective track and trace,
That’s enough for every homeless person in the UK
To eat six Mars bars a day.
But if the corporations paid their tax
The homeless would have to give some Mars bars back,
‘Cos they wouldn’t be able to take away
Nearly six hundred bars a day.
In fact, take the tax from the corporate trousers
And just build chocolate and nougat houses.
By the time you got to the 28th
They’d could all live on a Mars bar estate,
Somewhere out in Essex
That they could nibble on if they’re peckish.

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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.

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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”
“Pandemic”
“Profit”
“Pandemic”
“Profit”
Who’s gonna make the Tory Party stop it?

Source

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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.

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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

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