The Boris/Cummings spat sputters on- now there’s a foul smelling kettle of fish.

(A quick snide aside following the form of yesterday’s few lines.)

Two Deserving.

Dom and BoJo have lost the plot,
That terrible two make one sorry lot,
The old iron-clad brotherly bond is shot,
That once creepily friendship, now forgot,
Still mutually respectful- most definitely not!

Now they wouldn't share the same piss pot. 


Another few lines- these two deserve a half-decent hearing.

Two Sad.

Dominic and BoJo both realise
Their relationship has hit its demise,
Farewell twisted bonds, Old School ties-
Whatever Dominic accuses, Boris denies,
But who could you trust to believe whose lies?

This couldn't happen to two déclassé-er guys.


‘Public Schoolboys will be silly boys.’

©Obbverse

Dominic Cummings and Boris- a bitter parting of the ways as yet another true-blue bromance bites the dust.

Two Bad.

Dominic Cummings vicious nasty attack
Must trigger a quick Johnson come-back,
When two old besties start talking smack,
Once cosy Old Boy alliances begin to crack
Someone in Tory-Town is way out of whack.

C'mon, seriously old chaps- pot, kettle, black?

©Obbverse.

Bad cop Derek Chauvin- Justice to be seen to be done.

Cop Out.

Derek Chauvin denied his all-too-obvious guilt,
His good lawyer argued his lousy case to the hilt,
Tried to frame Floyd's death as a 'medical mystery,'
Pity Derek's knee on the neck was there for all to see.

Once a cop could blow off an 'escape attempt,'
Treat 'alleged' brutality with a smile of contempt,
Once any cops perjur-ative testimony was enough;
Now a cheap cell phone video will call Derek's bluff.

And so, the damning evidence was played;
That don't look good for Derek, I'm afraid;
Derek, looking all innocent won't succeed;
Jurors, how much evidence do you kneed?

Deep down Derek knew the jury's verdict could be no surprise
Though a flicker of emotion darkened those lizard-like eyes,
Yes, behind his mask how truly sorry (for himself) he feels-
His first day inside and he'll be sucking down liquid meals.

There are so many inside who'll happily rearrange his smile,
So many too ready to mete out some justice without a trial,
He's prayin' hard for a solitary sentence, the full 24 hours;
Beats being on his knees whenever he visits the showers.

Not quite the picture of innocence?

©Obbverse

Wake up before your workaday mundane Monday commute and enjoy the company of our cheery six A.M. breakfast news team! Or not.

Groundhog Day Again.

'Good morning, Merrilee, what's happening in the news today,
What's trending, pray tell, what's going down in the greater USA?'
'Morning Mitch, well, it's much like yesterday's news, sorry to say,
Trials, tribulations, protests- oh, 'nother mass shooting by the way.'

'Oh Merrilee, this is a tragedy, so soon after yesterday's report?
It gives me pause to think how quick our lives can be cut short,
So let me take a moment to send out heartfelt prayers of support;
OK, moving along Merrilee- hey, what's new in weather and sport?'


(Yet another dark rather than light flippant offering. Sorry, but now it's no fun to wake up of a morning and start ticking off the latest mass shooting numbers- Indianapolis Fedex, April 15, Detroit, April 16, Columbus and La Place, April 17, Kenosha and Shreveport , April 18- Since when did mass shootings become an everyday occurrence? The numbers are all becoming quite mind numbing, aren't they?) 

©Obbverse

The lying cheating Ponzi scheming Bernie Madoff passes on, still stuck in the slammer. But what of his long term futures?

Rich Man, Ponzi Man, Bernie Madoff, Thief.

Bernie Madoff, that ball of slime
Has done spending time in jail,
He's hardly started serving his time
For fraud on a madly massive scale.

But Bernie's sentence is at expiration.

He ripped people off for his own ends,
He left a trail of Madoff bad debts behind,
He bilked clients and milked dear friends,
Every one a poor rube to be robbed blind.

So much for his trustworthy reputation.

He was sentenced to three lifetimes in clink,
Judged deserving of serving 150 years,
Time enough to take stock, stop and think...
What fresh Hell awaits as Eternity nears? 

It's time for a soul-searching conversation.

Alas, poor Bernie, did he did try to cut a deal?
Offer Satan up his soul, or a majority share?
But in certain cases that offer holds no appeal,
A peep into some hearts shows... nothing there.

Any ex-client knows that's no Revelation. 

As Bernie breathes his last in his lonely cell
Does he pray St. Pete swallows his sob story?
The ol' silver tongued devil tells a tale so well;
Or will Bernie be the richest soul in Purgatory?

So ends Bernie's short incarceration.

Bernie lived the rich Ponzi scheme dream
Now life in a pokey cell is a poor way to live,
The debt he owes he knows he'll never redeem,
What a pity bankrupt Bernie had only life to give.

It's back to the bottom for Bernie if you're into reincarnation.

©Obbverse

A peek into the mind-set of the politically ‘fair and balanced.’ All Righty then!

Straight To The Heart.

I've got my rights!!!
To my free speech,
I got my rights
You don't dare breach.

I've got my rights!!!
I don't gotta mask,
I got my rights
So don't dare ask.

I've got my rights!!!
To not be vaccined,
I got my rights-
Freedum won't be quarantined!

I've got my rights!!!
To cling to history,
I got my rights
To love Robert E. Lee.

I've got my rights!!!
They're etched in stone,
I got my rights
Leave my statues alone.

I've got my rights!!!
To wave my flag,
I've got my rights
To salute Braxton Bragg.

I've got my rights!!!
To be anti-vax,
I got my rights
To twist the facts.

I've got my rights!!!
So hold your breath,
I've got my rights,
Defend 'em to the death.

I've got my rights!!!
Let me tell you,
I got my rights
Particularly dear Amendment Two.

I've got my rights!!!
To tote a gun,
I loooooove those rights,
That preciously guarded one.

I've got my rights!!!
I'll use my firearm-
Try taking my rights
You'll buy the the farm.

I've got my rights!!!
To protect my kin
I got my rights-
Don't fence me in.

I've got my rights!!!
Cain't lock me down,
I've got my rights
I'll go right to town.

I've got my rights!!!
To get loose and loud,
I've got my rights
To hang with my crowd. 

We've got our rights!!!
Wanderin' where we please,
We got our rights
To shoot the breeze.

We got our rights!!!
To gather Brotherhoodly together,
We got our rights
To go Hell for leather.

I've got my rights!!!
Rights we fought for,
I got my rights
To spread joy, and more.

I've got my rights!!!
To warn you off,
I got my rights
I'll shoot, I'll cough.

I've got my rights!!!
History's on my side,
I demand my gun rights
For which so many died.

I've got my rights!!!
Guns keep 'Merica Great!
Wanna spike my rights?
Like JFK, too late.

I've got my rights!!!
To smile with malice,
I got my rights
To openly carry in Dallas.

I've got my rights!!!
To roam around freely,
I got my rights 
To scope out Dealey.

I've got my rights!!!
To believe in Holy Don,
I got my rights
To wholly swallow QAnon.

I've got my rights!!!
Too right- I am hypocritical-
You say you've rights?
Wrong! My rights aren't reciprocal. 

I've got my rights!!!
I believe whats fake,
I got my rights
But screw you, Snowflake.

I've got my rights!!!
But if I'm fair
Others having civil rights-
I don't care or share.

Ain’t no arguing with them who shoot their mouths off before thinking.

©Obbverse.


	

Running a Mom-and-Pop store can be boom or bust.

Bad Business.

We've expanded your ol' local Seven-Eleven,
Now we're ready for action twenty-four-seven,
We're here for your beer'n'snacks and cigarettes
But we won't extend you a tab or hold your debts.

'Sir, if you don't see what you want, just ask
But inside I'd rather you not wear that mask-
Oh; in light of your sideways Glock I now recall
In special circumstances we extend credit to all!'

My very first night of working dusk till dawn
And I'm already lookin' deathly pale and drawn,
In all my long days of working the seven till three
The one denying charging daylight robbery was me.

 I called it in... eventually the cops rolled out,
That consistent diet of donuts helps, no doubt,
They began the sit-down-at-the counter interview,
They had free coffee, a whole jelly roll, but not a clue.

The jelly rolls quick demise cut the interview short,
Perhaps they'd had their fill of filling in their report? 
They departed, snagging some Snickers without paying-
A five-fingered discount or more evidence in the weighing?

As my little corner of the world turns dark
I glare out at the shadily deserted car park,
Torn between leaving out the Welcome mat
And standing by the door with a baseball bat.

I used to spend all my given days a'waiting to serve
But that empty cash register shows I've lost my nerve,
My faith in customer relations- blown away, I can't deny,
Hoping every rattly banged-up ol' Cutlass quietly drives by.

I must just admit my shopkeeping days are done
If I can't trust the driver, or the dude riding shotgun,
This prime retail location looked fine in the light of day
Now here, due to Saturday Night Specials, crime does pay.

(‘Inspired’ by another news report on, yes, yet another armed robbery. Call it ‘Kim’s Convenience Store’ for the morbidly cynical and gun-shy.)

©Obbverse

After being in a locked down life, what harm is there in getting in a round, a quick nine or eighteen holes?

Same Old Abnormal.

After all these long dark careful months
Of staying locked down, home at nights
Some folk are missing what was normal once-
Just chaffing, a'wanting to exercise their rights.

They just wanna do what they used to do,
They just don't like the way things change,
They just don't- can't- wanna wait till '22 ,
They just wanna be home, out on the range.

Some do become increasingly frustrated,
Sick of staid-at-home and safe surrounds,
They wanna step out, feel free, liberated,
Go out to the club, let loose a few rounds.

A select few don't wanna stay quietly shut up-
Why go stir crazy, let the inner sports nut out!
Find your course of action, get out and cut up,
Or go crazy if they can't get their big butt out?

The urge to break loose grows ever stronger,
It is a curse, a burden many fail to shoulder,
Just a crazy one or two who can't wait any longer
Like those mad bastards in Atlanta and Boulder.

Yep, I think you've every right to those arms you bear,
But your NRA's wrong, blindly wilfully not seeing the link- 
Some short-fused dum-dums need to stay in Secure Care,
No harm checkin' on permits? On fingerprints? Do ya think?

©Obbverse

Don takes a golden opportunity to address CPAC, the Conservative Political Action Conference. Talk about a new slant on rock solid values and old school beliefs!

Pure Solid Pyrite.*

Whatever happened to the good ol' Conservative?
Those who serve their country, long as they may live?
Those who yearn to not take it all, but to humbly give?

Where now are those leaders, those ol' salts of the earth?
Who knew the the value of sweat, what hard work is worth?
Why would one revere this man, made a billionaire by birth?

Good ol' values long gone, now old dirty money talks,
Nowadays it's 'carry a big stick, smack anything that walks,'
Around the tower of power the Big Bad Boogeyman still stalks.

There's a statue of Trump proudly displayed at CPAC?
The old bold gold-plated Tin God is mounting a comeback!
Can't the eyes of the wise perceive something's out of whack?

Behind his thin skin of gilt'n'glamour lies a cold heart of brass,
A false idol with tons of bullshit bullion but not an ounce of class;
Still  fools bow low, blinded by the shine of this massive stuck-up ass.

*Pyrite: AKA Fools Gold.


©Obbverse


	

How cruel can the beautiful game be? I have just seen the awful and ugly truth: Oh, I laughed until I cried.

(Brighton and Hove Albion 1, Crystal Palace 2.)


Dipped Out.

Down to Brighton the team bus quietly drove,
To where Palace hoped a point might be nicked,
At best to share the spoils with Brighton and Hove,
A dour nill-all draw the score this Palace fan picked.

But what a strange televised game we saw unfold,
Brighton controlled the ball, a team wholly possessed;
'Twixt his pristine posts the Brighton 'keeper idly strolled,
Never had he or TV watchers seen such a one-sided contest.

But the crosses flew in from the heave-Hove side,
Hot shots blocked by Palace's desperate defending,
Volleys from the blue clad lads blazed high and wide,
Brighton's besieging of the Palace seemed never ending.

Finally, came one brief moment of respite,
A Palace foot hoofed a stray ball down the line...
His untroubled face turned up towards the sunlight
Hove's 'keeper rose from the grass- time to rise and shine.

In came the hopeful cross, from far far away,
But one Palace player had made an exhausted run,
That's how slick-heeled Mateta, against the run of play
Made the most of his chances, or more precisely, our one.

As the Palace players smilingly celebrated
'Twas tragic to see the Seagulls managers pain,
His all-going-according-to plan smile evaporated,
To return once the one-way traffic commenced again.

Palace retreated back in the box, same old same,
Our 'keeper breathlessly making miraculous saves,
Just get to half-time, our is an offensively defensive game-
Endlessly the blue tide washed 'round the Palace goal in waves.

The half-time whistle blew, and scratching his head
The manager of the boys in blue traipsed past, downcast,
His team followed behind, shuffling like 'The Walking Dead'
In the Palace shed, *Roy, head bowed, prayed his luck would last.

Half-time came, ten minutes later it went,
The game recommenced, settings back to default,
Whoever had charge of the console seemed Hellbent
On bombarding the Palace with all-too common assault.

Eventually the Footballing Gods smiled on Brighton,
The football finally found purchase in the ol' onion bag,
Leaning back on his goalpost Hove's 'keeper yawned on;
When you've not even sweeping to do tending tends to drag.

Ninety minutes approached with both teams played out,
Had Palace drawn out a point, with a team of ten at the back?
Then came that miraculous moment that leaves one in no doubt-
Those devilish Footballing Gods keep a joker in play in every pack.

A ball splays out to a man on the wing, gasping his last,
Though cramped up he somehow forces his legs to obey,
Into the Brighton half where he had so rarely trespassed,
He lobs the ball up in the air, anywhere, to get it out of play.

Toward a fresh legged substitute the ball kindly fell;
Our Mr Benteke is known more as Mr Hit And Miss,
But today his shot put us in Heaven and Hove in Hell;
Those Footballing Gods sure can take a trick, and the piss.

'Glad All Over' boomed from the visitors dressing room,
Then chorus after chorus as the London bus drove away,
But in the Hove shed the blue room was as silent as a tomb,
A seaside smash-n-grab, a torn-up **Amex? Crime does pay!

(* Roy Hodgson, the wise old old Yoda of football managing. Or on this day, one lucky bastard.
**Amex Stadium, home of the Seagulls/Brighton and Hove Albion/poor unlucky bastards.)


©Obbverse