Former British Prime Minister Tony Blair
Kevin writes:
a poem to mark Prince Andrew’s mammy’s decision, on her own personal recommendation to herself, to say “Arise Sir Tony Blair” in the New Year’s Honours List, Here is director Ken Loach reading same. And here is PJ Harvey singing the lyrics of the Brecht poem (Ballad of the Soldier’s Wife) on which mine is based. I hope to turn up at Buckingham Palace on the day Tony is knighted and to perform my poem dressed similarly to how PJ Harvey is in that video..
What Did The Politician Get His Wife?
(after Bertolt Brecht)
And what did she get, the girlfriend,
from the student union meeting
at which he rose to his feet
and realised he could speak?
From that meeting she got
the Snickers bar he forgot to eat
so busy was he watching them listen;
and that speech, unabridged,
every other night for thirty five years.
And what did she get, his new wife,
from the time he first used a party
conference microphone to agree with both sides?
Those okay with the Moslems/Mexicans/Gypsies being here,
and those who want them kept over there.
From that microphone she took away their
invitation to dine with the Deputy Mayor
and his not new wife.
And what did she get, his no longer new wife,
when, at the second attempt,
he won that seat on the City Council?
From his election she got to drink Pinot Noir
and go swimming in their private club
with the no-so-new wives
of those who got the contracts
to make the paving stones and install
the pay-and-display ticket machines
during his years as Chairman
of the relevant committee.
And what did she get, his well-maintained wife,
the night he was elected to the big shiny
parliament? From that night she took away
an architect to re-design their new three storey pad
in the priciest possible part of the capital,
and an article about herself
in the Daily Express lifestyle pages.
And what did she get, the no longer new MP’s
no longer new wife, the morning
they made him Minister?
That morning she got to go horse riding
with the Leader of the House of Lords’
fourth (or fifth) wife.
.
And what did she get, the no longer new
Cabinet Minister’s wife, the night the landslide
made him Prime Minister? That night
she got to hold to her breast
invitations to break foie gras
with the Sultan of Brunei, the President of China;
and the chance to write husband’s speech
announcing the crackdown on beggars
who accost hard working
families who stop to ask for directions
enrouteto the nearest funeral parlour.
And what did she get, the ex-Prime Minister’s
no longer new wife, from all the depleted uranium shells
he had dropped during the Battle of Basra, all the soldiers
he sent to meet improvised explosive
devices in far Mesopotamia in the hope
of getting rid of something bigger
than the beggars and prostitutes
at Kings Cross. For these she got
white night terrors
of him on trial for all their crimes,
and the desire to never again
look out the front window of their fine
Connaught Square house
at the tree from which, it’s said,
they used to once string
traitors.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzz
More bored than bard although I imagine Bodger is already having to change his trouserwear in over-excitement.
The Honours List is starting to read like a sex offenders register.
Of course this knighthood means Blair is no longer a persona non garter…
I’ll get me morning suit.
Higgins still longing for the days when maniacs like Saddam Hussein ruled the roost. Old Corbynistas stinking up the place ,utterly lacking in credibility.
Great poem Kevin. Nothing much has changed in britland for many hundreds of years. They still cannot resist an auld bit of raping and looting and bombing and shooting, with a bit of torture thrown in for fun. Spreading civilisation is a messy business but at least the original crusaders had to do it the hard way.
Davros looks well without the chair.