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Central Bylines
Home Lifestyle Poetry

The Biggest BLOB of All

Who is the blob?

Shirley Martin by Shirley Martin
19-05-2023 08:06
in Poetry
Reading Time: 2 mins read
A A
cartoon of Rees-Mogg laying down doing nothing

cartoon by Stan

Share on Bluesky
“You good for nothing idle layabouts
You work from home slobs
You should have done the task we set
And shredded the vast collect
Of laws we do not want –
How dare you be such slackers
How dare you drag your feet
How dare you douse cold water
When we turn up the heat!
I grimace in your direction
I spit my vitriol
I work myself in to a rage
Claiming you work not at all!”
Marching to our Chief Whip
To the sound of hearty stomp
I thump my fist upon the desk
And loudly state my request
“This really doesn’t muster
This really is too bad
This really must be stopped
Whitehall rump-steak must be had
To set an example for all to see
When a job’s not done as it must be
And frankly, candidly, let it be said
When they make tardy and us they rob
The Civil Service is one big blob!”

There he stood, defiant stripe
A pin-head, be-spectacled smarmy type
Twitching nose, thin cross lips
Swaggering frame hoisting
Proud held name
Which he barking out with stentorian twang
Announces strutting opinion of
This decidedly un-honourable
Old-money man
Who points jabbing finger
In direction of those
Whom he’d like to sword-prod
So they’re kept on their toes
But hampered, yet entitled
Calls school-yard names
And tries to manufacture unjustified shame
Failing to see his own

For this creature critic of servants civil
Has a past of choices risible
When upon green covered Commons bench, he draped
His mocking sneer with dismal lack of sense
Lying there like some malevolent wench
Who’d made a buck at another’s expense
Considering slyly on whom next to quench
His need to make money from money

But such is the phantom Rees-Mogg
The derelict feudal, the almighty snob
Of whom one can justly say
On each and every extant day
HERE is the biggest BLOB of All

And dear Somerset, lovely place
Do think deeply, react not in haste
When comes the time to choose your next
Please make a choice for what is best
And with deft kick, heft your boot
And show Rees-Mogg the exit route
For like so many others of his ilk
He is himself the name he calls
Seeing not his ugliness in his mirrored halls
Previous Post

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This writer’s life: a diary. Part 19: The birthday lunch

Shirley Martin

Shirley Martin

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