Trussed Us

Trussed Us

 

Oh, of course, absolutely - the latest exit polls? He trussed

runner beans to them, clearly, watch green shoots grow,

set them racing back to pack in Gdansk or Moscow,

somewhere like that, who cares, he’s hardly to know

when forking sods laws to level up her aspiration nation,

 

fuck them asking, frankly; she snaps his neck and neck

while truss turgid tea leaves for sewage and drek,

get properly stuck in, get briefed, get digital subscription,

get that one good leg to the clinic for prescription

and take multi meds; shuffling those fat arses off to bed,

 

truss whatever he tells them to truss, read ‘em and weep,

shit in soiled beds, foul in dumb dreams, seen in his sleep,

trussed the old, the silent; those fucking bleating sheep

who truss elders, truss betters, truss seen not heard,

mime to her later and trussed him not hear a fucking word,

 

go trussed a tame lioness, listen to that Wolly Murs,

play safe with tumbles while she’s polishing your turds

laser-focussed on some turbo charged Love Beach porking

or those shambled grizzled ghouls of Albert Street talking

and rocking their horseflies while he’s walking the walking,

 

no future in England’s dreaming of a potential H bomb,

while she’s trussing mandates to those who’ll vote wrong,

where his mansplaining is elevated to a fucking art form,

well hosed, well honed, a shitstick with wit sharpened tip,

ramp wags up to eleven and trussed his mouthfuls of shit,

 

oh, of course, absolutely - inflation and economy? She trussed

to austerity, trussed him to keep us poor, underfed, sick, cold,

cancel culture for bastard degrees that can never be sold

he’s tossed off from the back of a lorry, you’re sorry for haste

then fuck me repent but, oh: the waste, the waste, the waste,

 

the waste.