Gordon Scapens

Party Conference Song

 

That song sounds familiar

just run it by me again,

words playing with ambiguity,

so cat- and- mouse.

 

Notes twist, turn, circle

and keep us guessing,

U turns are begging

listeners to reverse belief.

 

A chorus of excuses

for difficult questions,

an insistent beat marching time

into uncertain philosophies.

 

Yes, I know it well,

it’s called Politics

and its melody is arranged

by a conscience with a limp.

 

Versed in a language

that will protect mistakes,

the message that remains

is to hoodwink the electorate.

 

Voters are fooled by the showmanship.

The cause of nearly all woes

is the stupendous capacity

for believing the incredible.

Gordon Scapens was born in Liverpool in 1934. He is widely published over many years in numerous magazines and journals including The Journal, Acumen, Pennine Platform, High Window, Pulsar, Dream Catcher, Cannon’s Mouth, Frogmore Papers, Interpreters House, London Grip, Morphrog and DREICH. Refuses to take himself seriously. Lives in a suburb of Preston with his wife, who’s friend, critic, muse and editor. Plays acoustic guitar averagely to her singing.

triangle_small
spikes
bedroom tax
Sheriff Stars

thistles stretch their prickly arms afar

Black Triangle
Disrupt and Upset

Militant Thistles

prickling the politics of "permanent austerity"