Just my second poem (I think?) about Australia’s current Prime Minister.
The red runner’s coming past the post
She thinks she’s coming fast,
But the unemployed and all the poor
Say that she’s coming last.
The runner is in Canberra
And she is talking up a storm,
But when the talking is all done
What is the runner’s form.
She’s coming last on welfare
The poor can’t pay their rents,
They’re moving out into the streets
Living in boxes and in tents.
The pensioners are starving too
No succour comes their way,
But real estate agents are on high
With prices that none can pay.
The runner talks of helping all
But all she ever does is talk,
Like Rudd the Dud and Little Johnny
It’s time she took a walk.
Time the runner moved on out
Unless she starts to get things done,
And when it comes to achievements
To date she has got none.
It’s time the talking stopped
And she did a little work,
It’s time to help the pensioners
And not to merely talk.
It’s time the rich were taxed
To revive the welfare state,
It’s time to fix employment here
And shut the bloody gate.
Hawke the Dork stood grinning broad
As he held the damn gate wide,
All our businesses went offshore
And Australian jobs they died.
So Red Runner stop your talking
And help the unemployed survive,
Bring usury rents under control
And let Australia thrive.
THE END
© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts, Melbourne, Australia
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