Outrage Sunday 311 Ode to the Lord Mayor

Beat the cream until medium peaks form
Fold it firm into a heavenly curd
Some people hate those who surpass the norm
Avoid the journo who smells like a turd.
Whip the whites until they are stiff and shine
Great work is done in a chilled mixing bowl
Why do people want to take what is mine?
I’ve done heaps for my city, won the poll.
Add the juice, brandish the spoon, add the zest
Light but with a bite: doesn’t it scream Spring?!
I don’t stay in trash; in chains I’m the best
I have declared that I value my bling.
I’ve given Perth a sweet and sour tart
But they respond by ripping out my heart.

This entry was posted in Uncategorisable Worsts, Worst poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Outrage Sunday 311 Ode to the Lord Mayor

  1. Russell Woolf's Lovechild says:

    We don’t deserve She-Ra. We should be grateful she deigns teh Pert with her presence.

    Like

  2. Zuben says:

    She ra — the tim winton of local politics

    Like

  3. Zuben says:

    … also , they are both ‘ blond(e) ‘

    Like

  4. Michekle says:

    Kkross withednel relative WHAT Went wrong there ed???
    .
    .

    Like

  5. Zuben says:

    Female
    Pale
    Stale

    Like

  6. john says:

    wow – end of days all round

    Like

  7. Andrew Markovs says:

    I’d like to read Tim Winton’s version of “The Dirty Girl”, a real look at Perth’s lowlife.

    Like

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