Two ‘tributes’ to Liz Truss, her party and all their supporters…These are among what one a friend calls my ‘Rick poems’, as in Rick (Rik Mayall) from the Young Ones, ‘the people’s poet‘ – I suppose because unsubtle and a tad ranty, but what the hell, I want to stick ’em somewhere. The more coldly angry, considered ones, I send elsewhere…

Blue Fruit

When it comes to food, 
blue is supposed to warn us,
screaming ‘Don’t Eat Me! FFS’
in the language of mould and rot,
blue food should be avoided,
at all costs, it does no good,
is never nice, just ignore it,
walk away. And that, really should
be that, especially as it is found so 
often to be overripe and festering, 
except, despite all this, some claim 
to really like it. Especially when it takes
the form of fruit – protesting that
it goes so well with money –
never mind all the acidic juice,

the aftertaste of bile, they’ll gorge
on all that lovely blue stuff anyway, 
dribble pulpy nonsense down
their chins, believing all its sugary
deceptions, throwing doubt on 
all the doubters, with talk of 
bubble-gum-flavour ice-cream 
or delicious blueberry pie –
well, the thing you need to know
is, they’re very wrong – the first 
is downright aberration, bound
straight for the lower depths of 
sweet snack hell, the other 
isn’t even blue, it’s really purple-black. 
So there really is no excuse 
for those who keep on buying it and eating it, 
as if it’s ever, ever going to change.