To be sung to the tune of Mack the Knife
Britain’s going to the dogs, dear
And we’ve all got starring roles –
Civil servants, bankers, lawyers,
Poets, PAs, toffs and proles.
Though we had the right to vote, dear
We were swayed by polls and Poles,
We ignored the words of experts
Who struck terror in our souls.
Now the stage is full of sharks, dear
Gathered round in glittering shoals
And the future looks like murder
And the text is full of holes.
Because Matron’s at the wheel, dear
With her clowns at the controls
And we can’t defend the FTSE
Against European goals.
But they say the play’s the thing, dear
And they say that Art consoles
So let’s clap while politicians
Hit the floor like tenpin bowls.
Let’s enjoy the plots and sermons
And ignore the dying coals
Of our island’s fame and glory
As the comedy unrolls…
Siriol Troup‘s poems have appeared in PN Review, Poetry London, Poetry Review and other journals. Her previous collection, Beneath the Rime, was published by Shearsman in 2009. A new collection, No names have been changed, is due from Shearsman in 2017.