Brexit Sonnet 41 - Austria, Not Australia
Brexit Sonnet No. 41
‘Austria, not Australia!’
I’m Mad to the Max, brimmed full with deep disgust.
So who’s on the bike and who’s in the car with the grunt?
Who’s the guy that is good, is it he that is heavily trussed,
Or shot in the leg, or dragged down the road for a stunt?
This violent dystopian vision we’ve seen acted out,
Let’s not play it for real with choices we now have to make.
No leather clad hero our Minister with Exiting shout,
His workaday car, no vibrating V8 doth shake.
Rockatansky’s our man, whilst beastly beast doth prowl,
This Brexit Road, paved not with gold, but hate.
So maybe Mad Max is not our future foul.
So dear Uncle Max, tell now of future fate?
‘Your Sound of Brexit Music will end just like mine,
In a world maxed on evil, where the sun omits to shine.’
©Keith Murphy
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
