for trump the trumpets sounded
vox pop was excluded again
pageantry
when all have tired of pageantry
it is a fool’s gold
blood smiles wickedly
broadly unfocusing the mind
as the knife slips in
broadly is abroad in the light
when no one looks behind
the mirror bemuses
as his reflection transforms
you will still see the devil you know
who knows you by this pageantry
when a new shield is needed we have
a broken shield a plastic knife
when another bigger knife is needed
we pass the port around the table
all know that the table could be upturned
in an instant when a fool loses temper
all are shivering as the knife is withdrawn
dull their the eyes at the exsanguination of truth
another generation is doomed
until another generation realises
that today’s truth was in subservience to gold
rare the voices who told you so
‘i told you so’
rarer the ears that opened
or minds that understood
‘i hear you’
not one crumb of comfort fell
from the table of pageantry
for the banquet was a mirage
and the would-be king is the jester
with a bomb
the emperor’s new clothes
is all red buttons
and because his fingers were old and trembled
we all took cover wherever we could
writing history on the hoof the stampede
pummelled all of sanity beneath its hooves
the thought
that it might actually all be over soon
flickers in dying light through the cut glass
in the secondhand king shop
when charity was dispensed with
where was the poet laureate
