I turned off the BBC’s
weekly Question Time
it’s now a B-movie
played out by UKIP-types –

Bland egos screen-act
mincing up for clap-baits
from the baying audience –
all cheered up by hate

as a host steers the fears
from lost hope to idiots –
this is Jeremy Kyle
with professional gits –

But late-at-night viewers
under booze can’t deny
the glaring screen truth –
the Beeb also lies


College Green

College Green hadn’t seen
such a circus in such a while –
a scattering of disaster tents –

Those stop-gap structures for
turned-collar journalists
talking to random others –

Those stiff-posed parades
of MPs – grinning between ears
like scavenge-fat hyenas –

Those unyielding politicos
in love with themselves
under the gathering clouds –

Those anchormen and weather girls
passing snide remarks
on muted mics back in the studio –

and voters draped in stars and jacks
shouting at the grey-suited fools
pleading for a voice to end it all

Radio for?

Oh My God, ’tis Thought for the Day:
Radio Four pauses to pray:
Humphrys kneels on the soundproof floor,
wishing for news which he can endure.
Melvyn Bragg berates a humble guest,
mumbling mantras as he doth protest!
Archerettes praise the God of scripts
for an endless drama of juicy bits.
Friday’s Now Show, the satirical melee,
not Now The Final Judgement Day,
with Hugh (not Grant) and the other one,
casting those stones of comedy puns.
The Reverend Coles, as Saturday arrives,
says his prayer: ‘Please not Five Live’.