Poetry, Uncategorized


pussy riot

Dancing girls up rise & shock

Chanting anarchistic rock.

Miniskirts and balaclava,

Anti-government palaver.

Why did Putin put the boot in?

We thought he was the dancing sort.

Pussy Protest came to nought:

Prezidentsky Spoil Sport.

Protest ‘n’ sing is not his thing,

Freedom of speech, is out of reach

For the girls who strut their stuff

Upon the altar, it’s enough

To make the Kremlin’s boss see red,

He’d rather hear Tchaikovsky instead;

“The light-of-lime is all mine,

Sorry girls, you’ll do your time.

This carry-on’s beyond the pale –

You’ll rot away in Moscow’s jail.”