Image by Martin Gollan
By Chris Norris
O tell us what to do, Sir Keir,
Please tell us what to do!
For you’re Prime Minister, and we’re
All looking up to you.
The trouble is, we need a steer,
Need guidelines to pursue,
While every word of yours we hear
Just shows you need them, too.
For you’ve betrayed our trust, we fear,
You and your two-bit crew
Of quislings who now make it clear
They’ve pulled a fascist coup.
If there’s one cause you still hold dear
As Labour’s flag turns blue,
It’s showing Donald Trump you’ll cheer
The hateful stuff he’ll spew.
You turned a blind eye and deaf ear
As those first protests grew
In scale and passion till each smear
On us stuck fast on you.
Our grief’s for every flag-strewn bier,
Palestinian or Jew,
Though we’d not waste a single tear
On Bibi’s retinue.
For what but wickedness or sheer
Abjection gives a clue
To why you’d cross the last frontier
That stifled conscience drew.
Ah yes, there’s all the killing-gear
You’ve promised to let through
So your NaZionist friends can cheer
And pay the favours due.
And if the lashback’s too severe,
If your scheme goes askew,
Be sure some new Stateside career
Will turn up bang on cue.
For you’ve no more last chances here,
No bolt-hole that will do,
As vengeful witnesses appear
And war-crime counts accrue.
For treachery you’ll have no peer,
No-one that touches you
Amongst the swine of yesteryear
When passed in grim review.
But stop: there’s just one ex-premier
In your vile lineage who
Much pleased his US puppeteer
Until their cover blew.
And now B.Liar’s back to rear
His gory locks anew,
Flog Gaza off as Grand Wazir,
And fix it for the few.
Keir Starmer, Tony Blair: no sphere
Of Hell fit for those two
Unless with Netanyahu near
To prick them as they stew.
