From the hundreds

Hey, Ministers!
Yeah, you lot with the haughty faces
Wagging your pudgy fingers,
As if it was your place
To designate my status.
Bad smell is it,
That sets your nose ungainly high?
Well… aren’t you grand!
What precious, Punic peacocks standing
Deaf above the hue and cry!

 

From the hundreds
By the thousand, marking how the theft is rising
Puffed-up pride kicks to the wayside
Those indentured to your tithing…

 

What a troop of pompous prancers
Robs us in their finest weaves!
What a dubious intellect
That loves a nation on its knees!
But, oh my goodness!
Don’t you look and speak the part!
And aren’t you marvellous icons,
So adaptive and receptive
To the fashion of deceptive arts!
Just look at you!
All smug and snuggled up against the withered hordes
Well, aren’t you lucky! Aren’t you clever!
What vainglorious, cosseted and cozened crowing frauds!

Advertisements

One thought on “From the hundreds

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s