Die DePfeffelschrift PAGE FOUR : Karen Macfarlane

Diary of a Downing Street Cat

After John Betjeman, Diary of a Churchmouse


Here among long-discarded morals,
Damp crotches and wine-soaked free-for-alls,
Here where the party whips never look,
I’m forced to lodge with a thoroughgoing crook.
Behind the black front door’s glossy sheen
The Big Dog loves to smirk and preen
And lick his own entitled arse
(Dear Lord, that’s a clumsy, canine farce).
Some think that I’m a Tory cat
But please observe, I’m far from fat.
Honest mousing keeps my body lean,
My personal habits are perfectly clean.
I didn’t go to public school
I don’t ignore the very rules
That I myself make and expect
The common hoards to follow; yet
Big Dog has done all this, and more,
He cocks his leg right on the floor
And thinks no-one will dress him down
Because he’s such an affable clown.
But here, where corners drift with the dust
Of powdered lies and ground-down trust
One day will come some vengeful broom   
To sweep through every grubby room,
They’ll paint over Nero’s golden walls
And bury the bespectacled voodoo dolls,
And while they may be of the same ilk
With false smiles and hearts to sour the milk,
Still, I’ll be with the sweepers when
we chase the Big Dog from Number Ten.



Karen Macfarlane is studying for a BA (Art & Humanities) with the Open University. Her poetry and non-fiction have appeared in various magazines including Poetry Scotland, Green Ink and Spelt.

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