We had written him a letter, which we had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent to where he sat in Canberra, years ago,
He was Treasurer when we knew him, so we sent that letter to him,
Just “on spec”, addressed as follows, “Scotty, of The Underflow”.
And an answer came directed in an email unexpected,
(And I think the same was written with encryption software black as tar)
Twas his National’s mate who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it:
“Scotty’s gone to Canberra scheming, and we don’t know where he are.”
In my wild erratic fancy, visions come to me of Scotty,
Gone a-swanning “down the Faction” where Liberal deniers go;
As his stocks are slowly shrinking, Scotty rides behind them bleating,
About the Premiers shutting places where the townsfolk mustn’t go.
And there were facemasks on the workers,
As the word had got around
That unwelcome Covid-19 had returned,
Twas more contagious than the UK strain,
And gowns and netting caps were back,
With blue bootees and massive goggles on display,
And the humble Carers gathered, lined up to take the jab,
And the emails they kept flowing,
To that PM who was snoozing,
Pleading ‘Pull your finger out’,
You’ve had months to do the planning,
But all we’ve seen is shamming,
Whilst Liberal bold deniers prance about.
So we somehow rather fancy that we’d like to kick out Scotty,
Cause we doubt he suits his office, Scotty of the Underflow.
(Without apology to Banjo).