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Wizard of Oz

A VICIOUS FARCE

I did not celebrate the crowning of King Charles,

nor did I help out at ‘The Big Help Out’ –

a public holiday designated

by the seventy four year old

billionaire as an opportunity

for his subjects to work for nothing,

undertaking public service jobs

someone used to be employed to do.

For only two times in my life was I

in step. Most of the residents of this realm

neither celebrated nor helped out –

from opposition or from boredom.

 

Apathy and obedience are

the opiates that have been chosen

for the people – by those masquerading

as democrats,  by those who wish

to patronise, silence, manipulate us,

whatever coloured flag they sail under:

autocrats, cowards, plutocrats, traitors.

 

What a useful distraction and screen it was,

that lavish, weird pantomime of feudal mummery,

part Wizard of Oz, part Police State,

that convention of sycophants and drones,

that colloquium of tokenism,

that convocation of cliché and drivel,

that vicious Whitehall farce.

 

 

OVER THE RAINBOW

For Elizabeth Salter

Fitting that we should see an amateur
‘Wizard of Oz’ in the Gladstone Theatre –
opened by William Ewart himself,
whose mission was ‘to pacify Ireland’ –
in Port Sunlight, that model, industrial
village and home of the soap that made
Tommy ‘the CLEANEST fighter in the world’.

Some of the audience have come in costume –
there are Munchkins, a Tin Man, two Lions
and a Dorothy with a toy Toto.
How rapt we all are with the music,
the plot, the invention! This is a
latter-day ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ with good tunes
and witty words – where God aka the Wizard
is a self-effacing huckster, a kindly
fortune teller from Omaha, Nebraska,
three clicks away from the Emerald City.