Leader of the Opposition,
Malcolm Turnbull, was to be
my morning blast today – but
even shades of his amazing
gaucherie has failed to make
the passing grade.
If email forgery is art then
Malcolm is a rarity in dearth
of truth; rubbish from his lips
a rubber cheque to pay for
angst that breaks in waves
upon a conscience wreck.
On free-to-screen TV I find
relief in guileless teens who
masturbate for fun; clearly
less invasive than the wanking
Malcolm stages in belief
it maketh great publicity.
© 24 June 2009, I. D. Carswell
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