And this piece was written on election night, a second night of pause and waiting, with the chill moon again prominent and beautiful overhead.
We walked home after casting our votes, our act tiny power, our tiny power of action. We had done what we could, and put our very sceptical crosses against the name of a decent man attached to a party that had already lost its way before choosing a grossly inadequate leader.
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I wrote this stanza the night before the UK General Election on December 12th. In my part of the country, the moon was very clear that cold December night, and had been for several nights. If not full, then very nearly so.
The electorate had a profoundly disheartening choice and a victory for the Progressives, or at least a position sufficient to restrain the fanatic Far Right and practitioners of the Lie, would still have been accompanied by a strong sense of trepidation.
But still I found myself that night, under the moon, with a sneaking hope that somehow sanity would cobble something together, something reflective of the nation’s predicament and fine balance ; the election might even come up with something unexpected, inspirational, gladdening…
And there was the Toad, intent on serenading the Leaver half of the country. Here comes the sun, get it done, get it done. And all the time, his back was turned to the nation’s other half. Would that pay off ?
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Thinking of the election due later this coming week, and of the likeliest result, I fear for the parrot. “He speaks all languages aptly,” wrote Skelton, implying that the parrot hears everything and can keep nothing out. So what will be swirling about in his brain by Friday morning ?
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This week Mr Trump (“the American Minotaur”) was in the UK for a meeting of NATO leaders. Then he got the hump because people were laughing at him and he left early.
Not long ago, Mr Johnson (“The Toad”) did a Putin with a bull. See picture above. Perhaps he was rehearsing for his upcoming chat with Mr Trump (the Minotaur).
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Last week “Prime Minister” Johnson tried to take political advantage of the terrorist attack in London. This despite the appeals of the father of one of the victims, expressly not to do so. But how could Mr Johnson resist ? He’d lose one vote, no doubt, but might well have gained rather more than one. It’s just a matter of weighing the numbers. A no brainer for a Toad. So he said it was Labour who were responsible for those deaths.
What further depths do we have to sink to ?
In the meantime, the Parrot, Bird of Paradise, uncaged and homeless and close to exhaustion, looks for an ark for respite or as staging post, as the Flood continues to cover the Earth.
We seem to have strayed into the Old Testament. Or has the Old Testament suddenly been translated into our present darkness ?
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Toad’s progress around the country this election is always, of course, more a search for images which might benefit him, than a chance for real encounters with real people.
And, to date, that search has come up with some striking images, which would appear to be considered appealing to us. There he is in one picture, wearing boxing gloves with “Get Brexit Done” printed on them, and a Toad’s face between the gloves, smirkingly up for battle.
And there’s been another picture in which the Toad meets a large bull in a cattle market. And there again we see that face smirkingly up for battle, though the supposedly fearsome bull tethered close by might be accused of looking a bit bored.
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The Parrot is tiring overhead. He lacks the staying power of the swift and a Bird of Paradise needs a foothold on the Earth. But now he’s heard the UK Prime Minister announce the Tory manifesto for the UK’s immediate future, having first “got Brexit done.”
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The stanza was written a day after we had heard from some pollsters that the Tories had increased their lead, with just three weeks to go before the General Election. And this was the day on which Mr Toad was about to launch the Tory manifesto. And there was a lot of rain falling, as well as lies being broadcast.
The Parrot saw the danger to the UK of all this flooding, remembering Noah, but the Toad had no thought of danger, or of the UK. He was still thinking strange Gollum thoughts.
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