Where is the black core
Of the Maga gaga?
Where will we find it
If we go looking?
Is it lurking like a spider hand
Pushing down upon us in our heads?
Does it scuttle across the floor
Of our bedrooms at night
To slowly infiltrate our thinking
Drinking from our souls.
Reducing our generosity
And our spark of human kindness.
Where is the Maga GAGA here?
Even though you would think
That it is only in America
It is surely here, amongst us
In Nornia, living with the well heeled
Respectable folks.
Yes, that’s it, the Maga Gaga
Lives next door, and what is more
Our version of the Maga Gaga
Includes sectarianism
Deep forms of hatred
Dressed up as political parties
With simple agendas, to only divide.
Ah, the river is wide
And the day is long
Yet the Maga Gaga likes to sing
The one same old song of fear.
Fear of the other.
Hatred, division and money.
Money for old rope, all for hot votes.
Politics for change
But only jingling in their pockets
And a regular salary.
Fat, unhealthy people
Eating free food at our lunch counter.
Trays full of the stuff
Paid for, by us.
While most of us don’t have
The Maga Gaga’s lust for life
Amongst the corridors of power
What a shower we have continued to elect
Ineffective parties whose life blood
Constricted by the party whip.
From a time when it was perfectly legal
To actually use one on any horse
Or slave.
Why still use the term, party whip
When it means horrible things?
So where is the Maga Gaga?
It stands behind Donald Trump’s
League of gentlemen and women.
Happy to exchange lies for cash
While we once exchanged it for ash.
Should we point the finger westward
At the Americas while we cannot
Rhett out all that is bad here?
With few Independents to vote for.
Lost in our own compromised
Form of local government.
For the Maga Gaga is deeply entrenched
Here in Nornia, yet I do believe
As John Hume did
That Spring will come
When we will live together
Amongst the green and the open flowers
Of forgiveness.
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