In all my years of writing bad poetry and doggerel, never in my wildest dreams would I imagine that I would be one of the 5 winners in an Award Anthology but that is exactly what has happened and I was stopped by police (for this is a police state) running so fast to the Building Society to pay the cheque for £100.00 in.
"Excuse me Sir, but we do not think that a man of your age, girth, hairstyle and kidneys should be exhibitioning themselves in such a manner on his Majesty's pavements".
"But you don't understand officer, I have won a poetry prize"
"Oh in that case, off you jolly well toddle then Speedy Gonzalez!"
The fact that the prize was awarded by BACS Transfer is neither here nor there when I waived my artistic licence at the officers. So it came to pass that a bad poet and doggerel writer transformed over night into a punchy political poetry operator with a bit of cash in his back pocket.
I'll give you a clue as to what the poem is about. The kernel of it is actually contained in this blog post
And that is all I can tell you because Poetry Anthologies need to be sold.
One thing is for sure, the sentiments expressed in this poem have finally come true!
