George ‘Dubya’ Bush caught sight of Tony Blair.
‘Yo, Blair,’ he called, ‘come here and show your ass!’
‘Ha ha,’ laughed Tony, bounding over there,
Tail wagging, drooling on the White House grass.
George patted Tony’s back. ‘You win first class
In the obedient poodle section
Of the Allied Dog Show. Here boy, this brass
Trophy’s for you. Look, see your reflection!’
This was dog’s dinnertime, with affection
All round, the sound of birdsong in the air,
No pounding guns or smells of chlorine gas,
Afforded presidential protection,
Unlike his dogs of war, ragged and bare,
Running that very day through blood and broken glass.
Mon 19 Mar 2007
No comments:
Post a Comment