There was a Red leader called Corbyn,
Beset by Blairites a-squablin’,
Despite overwhelming support,
Unelectable they thought,
They’d rather have Thatcher over him.

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Anger Is A Stone Cast Into A Wasps Nest

Spreading honeyed words

with a silver knife tongue

in some strange world

where the pollen

is not collected by the bees

but, rather, wasps

who gather in their hives

and plan the traitor stings

that will silence

honest men.

The annoying drone,

the caustic buzz,

the honeycomb

of politics

clogged up

by st...

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