OUR FALKLANDS, little cared-for, moved quiet

Lambeth to contrite rebellion -

to unrejoicing, which was not forgiven.

If there is genius in the English church, it is

for trenchant subtlety, fixing the halting

point of equivocation. LET ME HEAR

BOTH SIDES. No comment possible from F. U.,

being both fictional and dead; as you too,

Baroness, may be when I am finished.

Let Chingford have his snarl. Give Blaby

back his bottle. Thenford may holler.

Opposition cat-calls indiscernible

over background roar of vertical take-off,

weaponised finance reaching for the skies.

* * *

I’ve just realised why the Fatima Mansions’ “Mr Baby” is so titled. (Blaby is where Nigel Lawson has his peerage). I may now have achieved a long-held ambition: to write poetry that rivals Cathal Coughlan’s lyrics for obliquity…

To save you looking them up: Chingford is Tebbit (as is probably well known); Thenford is Heseltine. “Our Falklands” is a phrase uttered by Francis Urquhart in the television series The Final Cut.