The July Primates Poem

Beweep the fate of Simon Sheikh,
That upstart A-rab on the make,
Who came on time to Q&A,
Took one look round, and passed away.

It seemed God’s wanton fool mistake
To take so soon sweet Simon Sheikh,
Distorting with his deathward groans
The frozen smile of Tony Jones

And interrupting Greg Combet
Who’d scarce begun to have his say
On how his day-old Carbon Tax
Would cost each punter two bob, max;

And, with his final, heaving sighs
Upstaged the good, the great, the wise,
And each dim question from the dorks,
And even Mirabella’s norks.

He was not dead for long, alas.
He rose, he tottered, passed some gas,
And on a drip in Liverpool
He watched the show, and felt a fool,

Then tweeted, ere an hour had passed,
‘I knew the nation’s love, at last.’
It was, perhaps, his finest hour.
He may not feel again that power

Of absence mourned, of grieved esteem.
It seemed by midnight …  but a dream.
And thus we, Primates, well may rue
That hour, now too long overdue,

When, dead as beef, we do not hear
How much, how little, we were held dear,
Before the crematorium fires
Exhale us into upper shires

And our children’s jokes regale
Us into myth ere we set sail,
And then as now with Simon Sheikh
The actors briefly take a break,

The show goes on, they make their bow,
And we are all back numbers now.
Do not pass go; go straight to gaol;
We are but ghosts; let be. Wassail.

  1. Sorry, the Cremation is no longer an option.
    Carbon footprint you see.

  2. At least they weren’t eating soup when the Getup! propagandist passed out. He was spared listening to Combet at least.. What about Mirabella recoiling in horror? These young activists are not what they used to be, falling off their perch like flies.

    Why don’t they put you on Q&A Bob? You would be far more entertaining.

    • I thought perhaps Simon grasped the wrong glass, a glass that Mirabella’s infectious lips had already smeared and Simon may have been overcome by a new strain of virulent brain eating prion.

      It’s just a theory.

      Another theory I have involves weight loss, amphetamines and the same virulent brain degrading prions.

      Either that, or perhaps Mirabella donned some toxic lipstick whilst in the car made from the tears of kittens, and passed out with her head on the steering wheel, waking up from her stupor not realising that perhaps her loss of consciousness had just happened and certainly not connecting it with the lipstick.

      Combet may or may not have walked past Mirabella’s car in the car park with horn droning and may or may not have raised an eyebrow.

      The toxic lipstick being the culprit that took down Simon, it is semi plausible. The video shows that the glass is half empty.

  3. A Primate is a large ape, by my understanding.
    How come we have apes running churches, and Jones compering QA?

  4. “Before crematorium fires/Exhale us into upper shires.”

    Bob, this is wonderful stuff.

    Behold the craven Hendo crows
    About Assange’s legal woes
    We await with bated breath again
    For Ellis to his reposte begin…

  5. What The Sea Wants, The Sea Shall Have.

    From the cliff tops,
    She kissed me,
    Held me by the throat for just long enough,
    To leave a scar, the mark of heavy boots,
    The weight of men on chests,
    Bearing down.

    Gracious ink, her wrists,
    Stained in blue and foam white
    Covered by tumbling sleeves in the black of night,
    The skittish moon,
    The cold, southern swarl,
    The depth,
    Humbling, dramatic.
    Magnetic.

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