Tuesday, 24 January 2017

A Poem for Donald

This Be The Verse
adapted with no apologies from Philip Larkin's original, in honour of the new regimes in the USA, Britain, India, Hungary, Poland, the Philippines and probably the Netherlands and France shortly

They fuck you up, your mum and dad the men in charge.   
    They may not mean to, but so they do.   
They fill you with the faults fears they had
    And add some extra, just for you.

But were they fucked up in their turn
    By fools in old-style gold-trimmed hats flats and coats,   
Who half the time were soppy Twitter-stern
    And half at one another’s throats?

Man hands on misery to man woman.
    It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
    And don’t have any kids yourself.

But if you use ungodly ways
    To stave off an extra kid
They'll come for you and lock you up
   If it helps an election bid
You can donate to Planned Parenthood here and the Family Planning Association here.

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