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They sent Santa to Rwanda

He didn’t want to go

The reindeer got deported too

That’s the last they’ll see of snow

In attempting to circumvent border control

It was deemed an illegal immigration 

Caught in the lights of the aerial patrol

With no proof of destination 

Now he’s in a detention place

The subject of arrest

They’ve digitised (and 3D ...

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This is for my dear sister Carole, whom we lost on Monday. She was a member of a very traditional and, dare I say it, quite mysoginistic suburban tennis and bowling club. She played neither, but was by far the best actor in the amateur dramatics section, which sadly folded years ago. She was a brilliant and inspirational primary school teacher, who loved telling stories, especially in verse. She a...

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The invitation came from an anonymous source

With a hint of menace in a note of force

A resolution has been passed

By our High Command

For festive entertainment we want your band

This is not optional, there’s no way out 

We’re ready and waiting so don’t hang about

Be at the Village Hall on the Thirteenth of December

And prepare to deliver an event to remember

There’ll be...

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There’s a shoot-out on the bowling green

The pianola’s full of holes

The Man with No Name’s

Got a Zimmer frame 

And a tray of sausage rolls

He’s a High Plains drifter 

Not from round here

The strong and silent type

Got a dance partner, can’t lift her

They practice moves on Skype

At the monthly hoedown 

At the nursing home 

He wears a felt ten-gallon hat

It’s ...

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Earth has not anything to show more shit

Mad would she be of soul who could watch it

A sight so tragic, such a travesty 

This chancer now doth, like a varmint wear

The mask of a presenter, barefaced stare

Scandal, pandemic, the litany of lies

Indifferent, callous, let bodies pile high

Wittering trivia to the poisoned air  

Never did one so manifestly seep

Self important ...

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There’s a Viking Warrior around the back

With a multi-tool and a Power Pack

Keeps nuts and bolts in a padlocked sack

He’s a DIY Man, he’s building a shack

With his manic ScrewFix lust

He’ll transform that hedge into dust

It makes no odds, he’s not fussed

He’s a DIY Man, born to rust

He wears a John Deere branded shirt

Recharges himself when he feels inert

Wa...

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