One day, when they have sorted it all out,
they’ll sit and chat and offer biscuits round
and wonder why it took so long to reach
this state of perfect equilibrium.
The billionaire magnate will not listen
to protests as he insists on paying
his workforce over and above their needs
plus a Christmas bonus and weekends off.
The union leader who waves it away,
elegantly complacent, with no trace
of rancour or working class accent, says
if there’s ever a need for his members
to do overtime then they’ll gladly come
and do it for nothing because they know
their pensions will provide generously
for their old age. And they both nod and smile.
The fiery feminist lets the lewd old
comedian who’s on as the token
celeb call her ‘love’ without the slightest
rebuke because it no longer matters
now that not even golf clubs recognize
any gender bias, although most women,
it must be said, have better things to do
than golf. So, what is the next question, please,
yes, over there, the man in the blue shirt.
Which is the best of Mozart’s symphonies?
Then, what’s your favourite flavour of ice-cream?
Which animal would you be if you could?
Should T. Rex, Mud and Abba be set texts?
Would it be better if cartoons were real
and dogs could talk and tell us what they think?
Should Question Time be more like this or not.