Pre-election day, this is the perfect antidote to baby-kissing canvassers and interview soundbites. It’s a searingly honest and at times uproariously funny selection of polemical and activist poems, written with style and aplomb by Swansea poet and activist Christopher Norris.
 
The book documents the (hopefully permanent) fall of the Tory party under a succession of clueless incompetents, unrivalled for their sheer arrogance, greed, mendacity and corruption. From bumbling Borris to economy-wrecking Truss, the volcano of satire, disgust and righteous indignation is supercharged by Martin Gollan’s brilliantly pointed cartoons. Here’s one of them….
 
leadership hustings
 
Written in rhyme and across a variety of literary forms (I particularly enjoyed the oft-neglected genre of the clerihew), this reminds me a little of the ‘broadsheets’ of Victorian times – politically subversive, using humour as a weapon, but deadly serious in its subject matter, which ranges from unethical treatment of asylum seekers to a gun-toting hallelujah church.
 
This is a collection which documents an important time in history and will hopefully act as a warning to future generations not to make the same mistakes. Read it before you vote!
 
Convulsions: A Trusstercluck, Poems by Chris Norris, ISBN 9781912710645, £12 from here. Here’s a sample poem:
 

Another Vote for Sunak!

Me, I’m your typical swing voter –
The only thing I care about’s my car.
Just keep your hands off me and my old motor
Else you’ll find out how narky us lot are.

That Sunak, he won’t screw my daily rota.
He knows this barmy Ulez thing’s by far
The biggest issue for your cash-strapped floater –
It’s all them doomsday types whose voices jar!

If I was Rishi’s party-line promoter
I’d say ‘just get old Clarkson as your czar
For drivers’ rights – he’d push the Ulez boat a
Whole lot farther out, our all-time star!

So tell the world we don’t care one iota
How anxious for their grandkids’ lungs they are,
Those Greens – we say ‘Jump back in your Toyota
And we’ll jump back in our old bangers, ta!’