Parliament of Fouls, or The Foulest of Parliaments Brian Smith suggested to members of the Forum that they collaborate to produce a canto of stanzas in “ottava rima after Byron” on the subject of the then forthcoming 2015 General Election. The Prologue: A writer looking at the coming Poll Might feel despair. But we (Byronically Inspired) associates of St Edmund Hall Have made a Canto, a bionically Collaborative affair, sick in our soul, Expressing our disgust laconically. With candidates becoming so moronic No wonder that our comments are sardonic. The Byronic Verses The Chorus: Again it’s nigh - the cycle draws around, And tricksters’ faces flicker in the half-light. Again the fairground’s rolling into town All starry eyed with promises and foresight; And whitewashed cheeks adorn a leering clown And palms and silver cross by shade of midnight. And later in the empty light of morning A samey view across the landscape’s dawning.
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