Submission 34032

Probably a ‘ranting poet’ kind of thing: written three years ago but looking suspiciously relevant again as Sunak faced the Inquiry


(engage grainy monochrome Sex Pistols filter in your mind’s ear)

I am the Antichristmas
(used to be an anarchist-a
but it got too bloody hard)
So I got a job on a Hallmark card.

I am an Elvish impersonator.
I am the cracker detonator
that never works. Well, bugger that:
you’ll still enjoy the paper hat.

I am that family who’s
cooped up, locked down, simmering, stewing:
desperate for jollity,
invested in festivity.

I am the tanner in the Christmas pud
that cracks your tooth and lets the blood
flow free all over the remnant roast        
to tell you meat is murder. Ghost
Of Christmas Past - that’s me. I’ve come
in memory of what you’ve done
to harm yourselves by voting in
a bunch of conmen yet again.

I am the true-blue Cabinet.
I’ve come to make you bluer yet.
I blew my credibility
to keep conviviality
afloat: I’ll tell you anything
to get your vote, and my right wing
nutjobs will be there at my side
to speed your economicide.
We came, we saw, we lied, we bluffed.
Now, like your turkey, you’re all stuffed.

I am The Ghost Of Christmas Yet
To Come: the one you’d best forget.
It won’t be getting any better.
(There’s prezzies for the best forgetter...)