The politics of ecstasy

The politics of ecstasy

Mad men

In shiny suits

Fat arses hung lower

Than their opinions

Grinding the gears

Breaking stone

Making a world

In their own image.

Sad faced clowns

With shrunken empires

Bow-legged politics

Dog-eared cities

Using snakes as downpipes

Sharks in the parlour

Eating bread and honey

With wild colonial boys

Slumped in a corner

Waiting to spread

Bony fingers

Into the mix.

A flotilla of

Selfish opinions

Sail by

Honest brokers

Lashed to the mast

By a blowhard

With a foghorn

And bouffant eyebrows

Upturned nose

Never giving

The truth of things a sniff.

Seditious voices

Raise stakes

Little drummer boys

Walk in a line

Stealing a march

Ready to squash the earth

As flat as a vacant plot

In an empty head

Where secondhand dreams

Hang out

Until they are fleeced

By wolves who pretend to be sheep

In expensive wool.