A Proportionate Response
When I make an inappropriate comment
she would raise her eyebrows, and look over her glasses
at me, as a silent chastisement.
Donald J Trump, Scott Morrison and Theresa May
meet in an obscure coffee shop in the East End,
Security is outside like school boys awaiting the bell
to ring. The luminaries discuss the nuisance of climate change,
the rise of Leftist and environmental activists,
and the stupidity of quotas
for gender equality instead of an obvious
reliance on merit (surely merit merits?).
After an hour and two cups of coffee each
they decide to do nothing on the first
except plan for an environmental autopsy
at the correct time of complete collapse.
On the second a commission of enquiry,
some raids on homes and offices,
and to throw some reprobates in prison.
On the third they decide to do nothing.
A messenger arrives with the results
of the Venezuelan elections;
immediate trade embargoes and freezing of funds
are agreed, and a military response
if it wasn’t set right in a week.
When she reads that in the media she raises
her eyebrows, and looks over her glasses
at it, as a silent chastisement.
