Penny for your thoughts, Tony Blair…?
It’s ok, I’m only joking – I don’t care
For any of them – and I know you
Charge a fortune -
You can keep ‘em to yourself mein
Whorey Herr.

Halt! Who goes there?
It’s Tony’s cronies:
Tools and organs of misrule,
Like JP Morgan and the
Quartet ponies – phonies
One and all – as is the
Faith at your foundation
You present to all the
Vultures, preying by
Designer-driven plight
That keeps on side
The Greedies and the
Needies as your
All-englamoured fools.

Does it get lonely
Being righteous?
A messiah’s life is hard,
I hear.
Well, never mind:
I’m sure you find
Your millions bring you
Cheer as you ride pillion
On the riven world you cast
To profit by its woes.
But does your fortune keep
You warm as you go
Storming round your
Thiefdom like a one-man
Locust, swarming or a
Sleazy, puffed-up chieftain?

Serpent smile of charming
Harm, denial be your fragile
Balm against the animosity
Towards your gross pomposity
That wrecks and wastes
And falls profane upon
A weakened world for gain.
Equivocator, liquidator,
Shameless to eternity,
A messianic gun for hire,
Welcomes any willing buyer -
Tony Blair, with pants afire,
Sink in perpetuity.

Juli Juxtaposed