The Baring of the Green
A Poem By Don Franks
Post election, the National candidate
For Epsom sighed and did bemoan his fate
But not as much as Epsom Greeny Locke
Who'd promised to reveal before his flock
If Rodney Hide did ever win that seat
A post election natural Greeny treat
The whole of Keith the barrel, lock and stock
The baring of, if not his soul, his brioche
And all that went before,
Running wild and free through Epsom, Keith, Bare Naked, In the Raw.
We got so little from this sad election farce
That anything was welcome later, even Keith Locke's arse
Alas we were deprived!
For when reckoning day arrived
In body paint, sad smile and shoes and socks
And - UNDERPANTS - emerged the not so naked Locke
Lady Godiva must be turning in her unclad grave
But, tis a politician's way to thus behave
They promise bread and give us rock
They promise nudity and give us painted undied Locke
Keith could have learned from his Co leader how to bare
For just the day before, Rod Donald put it there
He called a meeting of employers, just to make it clear
that from the Greens they've bugger all to fear
No GE bottom line, polution, not a thing
Would stop the bosses pulling any string
The naked rule of market forces may
Continue if the Greenies get their way.
So while we may have missed the vital bit of Keith
To make up Rod has shed his party's last fig leaf.