Election time is coming. My inspiration for this was Lewis Carroll's The Walrus and the Carpenter.


His hair was slick, his image groomed, his teeth were ultra-white.
He did his very best to hold his abdomen in tight –
But this was in the context of a political fight.

The polls were up then down again, the race was not yet won.
Reporters had him shaken, stirred and always on the run.
'It's very rude of them,' he said, 'to dare to spoil my fun!'

The voters were fed up to here. Their wells had all run dry.
Savings were at all-time lows, debt at an all-time high.
With infrastructure crumbling – they felt hung out to dry.

The Premier and the Minister were counting piles of cash.
They wept with joyful plans to spend their multi-billion stash.
'When we win again,' they said, we’ll throw a massive bash.'

'If we campaigned and told sweet lies for 6 months to a year,
Do you suppose,' the Premier said, 'they’d vote for us, my dear?'
'I doubt it,' said the Minister, and shed a bitter tear.

'O voters, come and speak with us!’ The Premier did beseech.
'A pleasant talk, a photo op, a passionate stump speech.
We only need a vote or two, plus donations from each.'

An elder voter looked at him, but not a word he said.
The sickly fellow rubbed his eyes, and shook his weary head –
That is to say he could not rise from his hospital bed.

Out four young voters hurried up. Their shoes were clean and neat.
Their hair was brushed, their faces washed, each expecting a treat –
And this was no surprise, you know. They wanted more to eat.

Four other voters followed them, and yet another four;
Then thick and fast they came at last. They poured from every door –
All lapping up false promises, expecting to get more.

The Premier and the Minister walked on a mile or so,
With partisan photographers conveniently in tow.
They shook hands and kissed babies for a television show.

'The time has come,' the Premier said. 'To talk of many things.
Of budgets, perks and patronage – of kingmakers and kings –
And why your cash is critical -- for pulling legal strings.'

'But wait a bit,' the voters cried, 'before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath, ennui has made us fat!'
'No hurry!' said the Minister. They thanked him much for that.

'Free loaves of bread,' the Premier said, 'are very good indeed.
A chicken in each cooking pot, that’s what you voters need –
Now, if you're ready, all you dears, it’s time for me to feed.'

'But not on us!' the voters cried. ‘We said we’d elect you.
After such kindness, that would be a dismal thing to do!'
“It is indeed,' the Premier said, 'I’ll just have one or two.'

'It was so kind of you to come! Thanks for your sacrifice!'
The Minister said nothing but, 'I want another slice –
And hurry up. Don’t make me wait - I've had to ask you twice!'

'It seems a shame,' the Premier said, 'to play them such a trick.
We’ve led them by the nose so far, and made them pay so quick!'
The Minister just grinned and said, 'Our campaign was so slick!'

'I weep for you,' the Premier said. 'I deeply sympathize.'
Our debt load and our deficit are twice their former size.
He held a pocket-handkerchief before his streaming eyes.

'O Voters,' said the Minister, 'we've had a pleasant run!
Will you be shelling out again?' But answer came there none –
And this was scarcely odd, because he'd lied to everyone.