Poem: Pretence


The big political guns are out.
It’s left versus right,
red stands up to blue,
the elephant against the donkey.
Entertainment for you, my friend,
at the bar munching on peanuts
and sipping weak beer.
I watch your blank eyes stare,
drooping jowls shudder with each bite
as the TV screen morphs into sporting mode.
It’s defence against offence,
the clash of grid iron titans,
all steam and bluster
like the wrestling ring.
And still you sit transfixed,
a bulldog chewing his bone.
I hand over a bill worth nothing
and exit this world of pretence

copyright Francis Barker 2019

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