I’m
going to the hustings,
And
I’m busting to be thrusting
My
party’s ideas
Into
your ear.
I
will praise the perfection,
That
will immediately be detected,
When
this shower
Comes
to power
And
problems will melt away
Like
icebergs or glaciers,
If
this lot get elected
To
the local council here.
In
a school or in a church hall,
With
three or four other hopefuls,
Who
will each stand and say
In
our own charming ways
That
the other two or three
Embody
incompetency
And
delusion and confusion,
And
are, in fact, bags full
Of
pure political pus,
Unlike
us,
Because
we are, you see
Bold,
brave, clear sighted and free
And
how good it will all be
If
you just elected us.
We’ll
take questions
And
pretend to listen attentively,
as
through gritted teeth,
We
grin.
At
the foolish, fools and bigots,
Who
might just be
Voting
for us.
And
after the hustings are over
And
when we’ve consumed the tea
Or
the other hospitality,
And
the biscuits are all crumbs,
We’ll
go back to being humans
And
cease from selling snake oil
From
a platform in a church hall,
And
stand in a queue in the drizzle
Waiting for
a bus.
Poetry Library
