for trump the trumpets sounded

 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all are shivering as the knife is withdrawn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