New Zealand's demi-official poet laureate, Dunedin writer Victor Billot, returns with his weekly odes to public figures. Today: Christopher Luxon.
Supply side Jesus
I keep my faith separate from politics, always.
I keep it in this little compartment, most days.
Here in my briefcase, safely tucked away
from worldly things that might lead it astray.
Like annual reports or financial statements.
Or anything best kept down in the basement,
like that business with the Saudi Air Force
(the Big Guy upstairs told me no need for remorse.)
Now I am here: where others sweat and strive,
I appear out of the heavens. I just arrive.
I walk over water. I ascend into the light.
I am the saviour of the Centre Right.
While Judith hacks away for Team Blue
and Simon texts Speaker Trev: sux 2 B U,
I don’t engage in such rough and tumble.
I am more Godly, more pious, more humble.
Blessed are the meek. Blessed are the poor.
Blessed are tax free capital gains, I am sure.
But those poor will always be with us, I’m sad to say.
And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to pray.
