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Weeds spring between the statues
In Parliament Square
Corridors of power warmed
By endless hot air

Ermine-ragged aristocrats
Cluster around the woolsack

Dishonourable members discharge their bowels
Testiculating with froth and jowls

Misdirection, mirrors and smoke
Grasp the last statesman by the throat

Forked tongues waggle and flap

With knowing glance and hearty backslap

Big Ben watches the carrion crows
As shadows of faceless figures grow
Feather their nests

Invest to infest

A procession of bribes

From corporate tribes
A few continue
To fight the good fight
To represent

Tell wrong from right

But the masks have slipped
Those questioning whipped
The corrupting wind cackles and laughs
Blows through the turrets

For all time and a half

Copyright ©DJBurnham 2020 All Rights Reserved


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