I do try to avoid politics in my posts and, to an extent, in my poetry, as I believe political poems have a very short shelf life. However, the recent execrable activities of the greedy, second raters who make up this countries present government has led me to write a political poem.
once more I echo my father...
backhanders
jobs for the boys
feathering their own nests
putting our money in their pockets
he had a lot of words for it
but then he’d had longer to observe it
God knows what he’d have made
of today’s crop of no hopers
brass necked
blatant begging bowls
the hard faced refusal to resign
no matter how compromised
I have to agree with him
we deserve better
Let us hope, that soon, such poltroons are replaced by competent individuals who place the welfare of the country above the opportunity to have two jobs and do neither well.
For balance here is a silly poem which is also based on reality. Yes, I did make a vegetable lasagna when visiting Singapore many years ago.
Pasta making in Singapore
The oven is taking its time,
still cooler than this kitchen.
At this temperature the milk could curdle
I’m turning it into Hollandaise before it does
and with wine bottle rolling pin
generating pasta of a robust thickness.
Tropical night, humid heat,
moist neck, damp face, wet hair,
sweat drips off my nose,
finally the lasagna enters the oven.
I wrote the poem some time ago but that I still am unsure it is completed.
Recently I have been listening to Manel a lot. I leave you with La Jungla.
Until next time.
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