Rebel Poet Society: Poem of the week

Socialist Cindy. Photoshopped image credit: Luke

So here we all are, in twenty-nineteen,
Thinking how did we get here, and what could have been?
Lousy left leadership, bereft of a rudder,
Led by a loser, Comrade the New Mother.
She wants to import deadbeats left right and centre,
And stick them on bicycles pedalled by Genter.
She?ll house them in boxes dreamt up by Phil,
While you, dear taxpayer, pick up the bill.


We?ve got man-girls and she-boys and lezzies and queers,
But I try to avoid them, give?em the bum steer.
I don?t much like Islam, call it fear of beheading,
But if I call out the truth, well, then I?m dreading
Being screeched at by haters who hide in their safe space,
And call me all sorts of names about sex, culture and race.
But stuff them all, I?ll stick to my guns,
Believe what I do, and try to have fun.
I?ll pay off my mortgage and keep paying my tax
And hope there?s some left before I?m signed out by the quacks.


What would I change if I had my way?
Get rid of Jacinda and Winston the very first day,
Then turn off the taps to the bludgers in bed,
Get Shane?s nephews off couches to plant pine trees instead 
Lower the tax for the hard workers,
Kicks in the backsides for the job-shy shirkers,
Welcome in any who want to work hard,
Say bye-bye UN, here?s your red card.
Then I?d boil up the billy, make some pavlova,
And thank the Dear Lord the coalition is over.

Anon 


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