NEU! Boots Supplementary (2): Neu! Boots Are Made For Walking In A Winter Blunderland – Alan Smithee

Reasons To Be Fearful

Another sterling crisis, the emptiness of ISIS, nuclear devices and Kim Jong-Un.
The lessons of Benghazi, the lessons of the Stasi, an out-of-order khasi, and Murdoch’s Sun.
Another failing blue-chip, e-coli on a cruise ship, the policies of UKIP and poor Jo Cox.
Strengthening the border, the Old World Order, Britain turning Mordor and voting blocs.

Reasons to be fearful – Part 3
Reasons to be fearful – Part 3
Reasons to be fearful – Part 3
Reasons to be fearful – 1-2-3

Racists in the shires, Holocaust deniers, the spinners and the liars.
Tearing up the treaties, one too many sweeties, type 2 diabetes.
Evil and its axis, political malpractice, cutting top rate taxes.
Not knowing where we’re going, not going where we’re knowing, no more Leonard Cohen.

Reasons to be fearful – Part 3
Reasons to be fearful – Part 3
Reasons to be fearful – Part 3
Reasons to be fearful – 1-2-3

A legacy of Tony’s, oligarchs and cronies, the thoughts of Berlusconi.
Farage and his doings, opinion polls a-skewing, Syria in ruins.
Donald in the White House, buying things from Bright House, a poet in a lighthouse.
Sucking up to Putin, another College shootin’, an end to all New Bootin’.

Reasons to be fearful – Part 3
Reasons to be fearful – Part 3
Reasons to be fearful – Part 3
Reasons to be fearful – 1-2-3

What A State

I could be a soldier, with skirmishes and sorties.
I could be a poet, the wrong side of my forties.
I could be a model with my face on all the posters.
I could be a doctor with a 70-hour roster.

What a State. What a State.

I could work for Goldman Sachs and sabotage The City.
I could work for ATOS with an ignorance of pity.
I could seek asylum, with the Daily Mail to hound me.
I could seek a job, with lots of sanctions to confound me.

What a State. What a State.

I could be Ed Balls, reinvented as a dancer.
I could be the leader of a government of chancers.
I could be a UKIP voter, frothy-mouthed with bigotry.
I could be a Brendan Cox, bearing all with dignity.

What a State. What a State.

Because I try to change the world with a poet’s tools,
with a second-hand knowledge of first-class fools.
I should be proud if it wasn’t a sin.
What a state. What a state. What a state we’re in.

I could be a minor royal, gripped by greed and vanity.
I could traffic people with a freight of inhumanity.
I could be a President, impetuously tweeting.
I could be this poem bringing you a Christmas greeting.

What a State. What a State.

Because I try to change the world with a two-bit blog
Grinding every axe with a horse to flog
I should be glad, but glad’s wearing thin.
What a state. What a state. What a state we’re in.
What a state. What a state. What a state we’re in.

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