by Stuart McFarlane
No, this is not Nineteen-ninety-seven,
a new Labour, new dawn, a new Heaven.
We've still not forgotten the stain of Iraq.
For you, Tony Blair, there was no way back!
We are, rightly, sick of all politicians,
we know, only too well, they're not magicians!
We hope there is but minimal disruption,
a growing intolerance of corruption.
Time to govern boldly, to influence our fate,
to shake the wrinkles out of the garment of state;
to pluck the jewel of meritocracy
from the tired, tattered threads of democracy.
Yes, there's jubilation outside Number Ten,
but we, the people, will not be fooled again.
Starmer proclaims 'The economy must grow!'
Tell us something we don't already know!
We're aware your tax plans don't make any sense.
We're all aquainted with pounds, shillings and pence.
We don't celebrate the dawn of a new day,
do not so much cheer, as desperately pray.
You are seeking growth, a spike in GDP?
Then why not start by contemplating the sea?
Europe is still there; a constant underpinning;
panacea, no; but, at least, a beginning.
Stuart McFarlane is now semi-retired. He taught English for many years to asylum seekers in London. He has had poems published in a few online journals.
