With client hacks,

quiet words in ears,

he loves the craic

at working lunches

with the journo sewer,

making numbers crunch.

more twists and turns

than a snake with an itch,

humanity burns

while he makes his pitch,

purging list,

ever ready,

on power pissed

biding time,

keeping steady

the applecart,

election ready

steady fart!

The Lobby’s man,

(so quiet when

it suits him man),

a not so golden

silence man,

more twists and turns

than a snake with an itch,

humanity burns

while he makes his pitch,

coward beholden

to liars man,

fascist’s shill,

apartheid’s man,

cold eyes that chill,

triaging horror,

babies dead

in incubators,

blood is red,

this Tory too

but what the hell,

revenge is sweet,

while coffers swell,

more twists and turns

than a snake with an itch,

humanity burns

while he makes his pitch.

His racist hierarchy’s neat,

brown folk, bad,

whit-ish, good,

more faces than

the town hall clock,

socialism banned,

and justice mocked,

more twists and turns

than a snake with an itch,

humanity burns

while he makes his pitch.

On day one:

“Were you friends?”

finger in mouth

how blows the wind?

hell, yes I was;

on day two,

the same again,

how blows the wind?

friends or not?

hell, no, I was sharpening knives

to stab him in the back!

more twists and turns

than a snake with an itch,

humanity burns

while he makes his pitch.