Tuesday, 3 July 2012

The Road to London


Sic a parcel, aye rogues you are and stubbornly remain

neo Englander, new Labour, just about accepted by the middle

as long as principles deeply held are dropped as readily as R's.

Denying the wealth of nations, well your very own at least

you propagate your stories of dependence and ineptitude

mouthing too wee and too poor and too stupid with equal appetite.

Your Southerly migrations of body and mind are powered by gravespinning

the genesis of your parliamentary life soon followed by an exodus

both Scotland and socialism becoming far and fearful places.

Then your bitter leavings insinuate onto Holyrood front benches

those badly-tempered yarddogs growling on their long London leash

cynically pulling the chain on neebours, lest their own be Yanked.

Your chromatic careers spin red tie to blue then red hide to green

all spent hacking benefits from those on colder benches than your own

no longer happy to be Tamson's bairns, you become our uncle Tams.

Bob Duncan

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