Monday, 02 December 2019 09:39

The election: Govesy's Dream

Written by
in Poetry
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The election: Govesy's Dream

Govesy’s Dream -Take control
(Aka The Revolution will be Live)
dedicated to Gill Scott Heron

by Chris Nash, with image by Martin Gollan

There’s a Tory on my doorstep
Ah what you gonna to do?
I’m gonna talk that sucker down,
I’m gonna talk that sucker round
I’m gonna confront that tory
Till he’s red not blue.
Till she turns red not blue.

Buddy,
when the Bojo says,‘Take Control’,
The dude means like the NHS,
Take control, sell out to the good ol’ US!

Mate,
when the BJ says ‘Take control’
The dude means like universal credit
Take control, starve the kids, get it!

Mister,
when Boris the fibber says ‘Take control’
The dude means like the way Brexit
Makes it
For Etonians innit,
To well and truly fucks-it
For ever and ever, amen-wotsit

Text it,
If you gets it yet:

Brexit’s rich-shits,
Profits max-it!

Take control, simples.....

Got my Bojo working,
Got my Bojo working,
But it just don’t seem to work on you!

There’s a tory on my doorstep
Ah what you gonna do?
I’m gonna talk that sucker down
I’m gonna talk that sucker round,
I’m gonna confront that tory
Till he’s red not blue.
Till she turns red not blue.
Red not blue
Red not blue.

Brother,
when the Boris says ‘Take control’
The dude means like the way
His peeps gave control
To chartists,
BPM rave artists
Tolpuddle martyrists,
Funky young marxists
And anyone who gives a shit,
His peeps gave control of them away
To prison ships,
Truncheon licks,
anywhere that freedom rots.

The Earth,
The earth
The earth is on fire,
We don’t need no denier
Let the climate denier burn
Burn denier, burn.

Sister,
when Blo Jo says ‘Take control’
Does the dude mean, ‘control’
the means of production
our own reproduction
of ideology, state and education
the local radio station....

Take control,
Take control,
Take complete control,
Of your own situation?

‘Phworrr, that’s not it at all
That’s not what one meant at all.’

There’s a tory on my doorstep
Ah what you gonna do
I’m gonna talk that sucker down,
I’m gonna talk that sucker round
I’m gonna confront that tory
Till he’s red not blue.
Till she turns red not blue.
Red not blue
Red not blue....

(Brought to you by: ‘Blo-Jo’ Johnson, ‘Sweet Lips’ Rees, Govesy and the Parliament Mother-ship). Y’all remember to show your true De-votion on December 12th!

Read 79 times Last modified on Monday, 02 December 2019 09:54
Chris Nash

Chris Nash writes international ‘poetry without borders’ and is now working on a collection of ‘songs’ for species threatened by extinction called ‘Is this Goodbye?’. See www.chrisnashpoetry.com.

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