Here’s a boat that cannot float.

Here’s a queue that cannot vote.

Here’s a line you cannot quote.

Here’s a deal you cannot note …

and here’s a sacrificial goat,

here’s a cut, here’s a throat,

here’s a drawbridge, here’s a moat …

What’s your hurry? Here’s your coat.

On the subject of poetry, if you happen to be in North London tomorrow, the arts collective I’m part of – Lazy Gramophone – is holding an event called Lazy Sunday.

Full details can be found at the facebook group here, and it should be a lively and entertaining event, equally mixed with Sunday cool.

Readings by William Conway (from sections of his Tastes of Ink) as well as performances by the top gent (and excellent poet and musician), Joshua Idehen, The Sea Kings and Jem Cooke will feature.

I’ll be there milling about and chatting to peeps as well. Not as part of any performance, just to have a bit of a natter. Maybe see you then. And let’s hope that – for the good of the country – whatever is to happen, happens quickly in Westminster. 

*weeps*

The Guardian has the others here.

This election isn’t going to be fun is it?

Not because the editorial is Pro-Tory (this time round) – though the paper’s Murdoch-inspired fancies have been made crystal throughout this General Election race (and I find blatantly politically biased news coverage like a puss-covered shoe-iron to the face). But because of the above front page, and the inside ‘Page 3′ as detailed here.

Not only are both pages a shambolic attempt to sway voters of tomorrow’s Election in the most patronising and pop-culture pandering way possible, but they highlight The Sun’s clear disregard for the public’s ability to make an informed personal choice. It’s horrific, it truly is, and if I could find more words to express my disgust, rage and downright incredulity at the gall of supposed ‘reporters’, ‘editors’ and ‘newspaper journalists’ behind this copy I would. But it leaves me virtually speechless, thinking only of the letters ‘F’ and ‘O’ and with this message to the nation’s ‘favourite read’.

‘Britain’s Got…A Brain. Now sod off, and don’t ever darken my door again. There are papers 100 times more worthy of the 20p you cost. Which is a bargain, considering none of them are anywhere that price.  Now, bye, bye The Sun. And don’t let the polling station door hit your arse on the way out.