The Oireachtas Golf Society’s dinner, which took place last Wednesday at the Station House Hotel (above) in Clifden, County Galway, was attended by a host of senior politicians and notable public figures.

Who Runs Ireland?

Not the Deliveroo riders named Tariq and Omar
who Gemma O’Doherty is terrified will try to marry her.
Nor the taxi drivers from Togo John Waters fears will
make him go around the place wearing a veil.
Not the Hutch Kinehan wet squad The Sunday World keeps
telling you are coming to ruffle your dahlias.
Nor the puppets of George Soros
Jim Corr knows, from his research, are trying to put
a brown paper bag over his head.

But the Supreme Court Justices,
the Banking Federation chief executive,
the Ministers past and present,
the journalists who are meant to ask them questions.
These are the people who sign off on your life.
They go by the secret name ‘Oireachtas Golf Society’.

And for the sake of what Saturday’s Irish Times calls stability,
you must allow such people eat in peace:
the French onion soup, the seared king scallops,
and a selection of ice creams,
all from the one big bowl.

And if they wish to have a sex party afterwards,
to slither across each other, pink as piglets;
such eventualities are covered
in the terms and conditions
of the Oireachtas Golf Society.

For the sake of what The Sunday Independent calls
the national interest, such people must be let gobble
who and what they will.

Kevin Higgins

Pic via Twitter

14 thoughts on “Above Our Station

  1. Joe

    Excellent, it highlights the level of self entitlement , one law for us the other law for the plebs, the vile mixing of various parties, politicians, judiciary, banksters and journalists that should be separated at all times. The FFFGGP has reincarnated the Galway tent into a much bigger monstrosity than ever before. Time for a new election.

  2. Bertie Blenkinsop

    I’m generally a positive person but Kevin’s poems bring out my inner Frank Grimes, I think they’re dreadful.
    What am I missing here?

    1. Nigel

      They don’t tell you anything you don’t already know, and they all start from the position that the reader is an idiot.

    2. Broadbag

      Not missing anything, they’re all awful and make me cringe in a way that only truly awful and pompously self righteous poetry can, they’re uniquely hideous.

  3. shitferbrains

    Maybe it’s not easy to write good poetry when you know in your heart of hearts that a large dollop of the outrage being felt by the public at large yada yada is hypocritical drivel. Outrage at the West of Ireland not having a Minister ? Nudge nudge wink at having Big Whassisface as an EU Commissioner despite his having to take an oath not to act as a national politician ?

  4. Gah!

    The idea of John Waters being forced to wear a veil cheers me up. Anything that would hide that miserable face that one’d never tire of slapping would be most welcome.

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