When the votes were counted, conform with their little crosses,
with the ballot-boxes lying empty
like empty promises splashed over a Westminster canvas,

and the only independant candidate left in the world
lay broken
in a vice-like grip, not even a token

opposition remained, - gone forever...
candid expression censored forever,

and the body politic hung drawn and quartered by politicians for ever
on an abandoned world among abandoned constitutions,
free thinkers erased together,

even Crow had to start searching for fresh pickings...

29 July 1991

Jonathan ROBIN

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/that-moment-when-the-votes-were-counted-parody-ted-hughes-crow/