Question-Time
Poetry Politics

Question Time

Heating the piled politics to a thick lathered buzz - Question Time's audience is a scream-streamed TX Almost over directed for a hyped-up reception - Our screens are re-tuned to TV's deception Below the radar into our licensed homes - finding the softest - in our sofa-slumped zones - Some people will toss their floating votes - they'll re-tune held views via the set-top box to long-lost frequencies of old-school
No_Confidence
Culture News Poetry Politics

No Confidence

The Mother of Parliaments emits a low groan - her confidence shot - as our distrust grows We smell the foul essence worn by the rich - it's the stench of the moneyed on the front bench The PM frowns as her voice thins and strains - repeating her mantras - again and again The deceits are disclosed in emotional stories of neglect and fear under the Tories those perfidious
Echo-Chambers
Poetry Politics

Echo Chambers

It’s too easy to hate, to say with screams, to find alt-solutions in final extremes, your volume racked up In your echo chamber, Knowing your hatred Reverbs beyond there; Too may such rooms, with men pushing in these are the places where the end begins.