Cameron values:

Cameron values:
Belief in Freedom – and the ability to take liberties;
Tolerance of others – so long as they are brothers
In his crony alms;
Accepting personal and social responsibility – by
Giving it to personnel who lord the harm and those
Who can’t afford not to make scapegoats just to
Plug the gap in due accountability;
Respecting and upholding the rule of law – insofar
As it does not impinge on the entropic economic,
Greed-is-to-aspire death machine.

And, too, he goes compare and sees his values
Everywhere in symbols. How the motifs and his
Motives face and bow!

For how he loves his Union Flag
As much as all the striver/skiver tags;
He relishes his fish and chips – though maybe not
As much as people rummaging for food in skips.
And how his football quips attest to his devotion to
All patriotic notions! Under Cameron Mao, now
Kettling is protest sport – and cannons in the street
Are bought as easily as vested interest.

With a zest, he loves to love an institution with
Established constitution – Magna Carta: eat your heart out!
Call-me-Dave’s solicitations pale the knaves of old as
Honest, altruistic scolds.

One heart, one mind, one view, or not at all
Not you
Not you
And, no: not you
Are ‘British values’ under Cameron’s petty, mindless gall.

Evangelical Dave

Evangelical Dave
comes to save the day
armed with special liturgy
and political expedience

He trumpets
the threshold of
Helical descent
with theoretical
proclamations of
permanent lent

render unto Cameron
thy rent. For he is the
Landlord Profiteering
and the sour power,
boldly clearing
from the glory tower
of the greatest
crony story ever told

He rises on surmises
and the shoulders of a
Kingdom rehypothecated
since the days of old.

Sacred Plastic

Civilisations crash on.
Ascended masters,
primed upon the shores
of hardened categories

All is vainglorious pursuit,
beautifully underscored
by more irreducible hubris
than any terrestrial cell
can bear

Each corsair marque knells
darkly forged superlatives,
crowned under sure-thought

The whole world round,
bound by the autocratic
missives of faux gods –
all middlemen wielding
clarions that gild the lily
and the lotus
and the rose
in sacred plastic

Divinity, removed, must
gaze in wonder as the
puritanic classics prove

Dear Dyno-Rod

It’s really sweet of you to want
To come and save the world.
I see you’ve really hurled yourself
Wholeheartedly into the role and
Read among your pearls you’re
Even putting out requests for
Volunteers – oh, by the way: down
Here, they’re simply called ‘apostles’

Oh, and speaking of the words of
Gloss and sleazy preaching profit:
Is that muppet, IDS, upset to find
He’s now competing for the title
‘Best Messiah Hired’ yet?

And ‘Dyno-Rod’? You silly sod!
Your ‘saviour’ said he wants you for
A sunbeam, not he wants the drains
Cleaned. (Metaphorically, of course,
That’s needed too but not by you –
Your ilk is the pollutant) You’ve
Confused, by your Self-magnitude,
The end of that Beatitude – It isn’t

Blessed are the meek,
For they shall inherit the dirt..

You leeching, wondrous berk! It isn’t
Actually your Earth, no matter how
You prey. You’ve merely raised a
Sermon to utopian-strength hypocrisy
– a helmsman in the realms of the
Ironically absurd. You’d need an eye
As big as Arizona skies to pass the
Double-thinking prayers you’d mount
Upon the herds

Come off it, Call-me-Dave! It’s rank –
You’re killing me. Remove your plank
And get down from the mountain top.
You ain’t no bleeding Prophet – just a
Feeder at the trough

You really aren’t the Light and you are
Definitely not the Truth. You wouldn’t
Recognise that if it bit. Your Way is
Merely proof that Life has brought
You many mansions. Hey, they say
That where there’s muck, there’s brass
And you, m’lud, are rolling in the shit.