the weekly


Welcome back, Il Duce,
With bald and bulbous head:
You make me feel so smoochy.
I’m sorry that you’re dead.
I like your strut. I’ve seen the telly.
Your calendars outscore Pirelli.

Welcome back, Benito,
Your arm looks firm, outstretched,
While Hitler, Hirohito
And Franco seem far-fetched:
Your uniform is so well-pressed.
Were you a fascist? Never guessed.

I see you’re hard and handsome,
Made trains arrive on cue –
If only Richard Branson
Could take a leaf from you!
You’ve such a smooth and soothing face,
I’ll overlook your views on race.

Your scalp-style’s back in fashion:
Most men are short of hair –
As you move in puppet-fashion
Above the Roman square.
You’d like it here. The whole world eats a
Bona fide Musso pizza.

These days our politicians
Seem quieter and skinnier:
Let’s have some brute ambition!
Let’s capture Abyssinia!
And then, Il Duce, as night falls,
Hang upside down upon our walls.

Click here for a Guardian article:

Click here to buy Bill’s poetry collection Ringers

Click here to buy Bill’s poetry collection Impossible Objects

Click here to order Philip Seargeant and Bill Greenwell’s From Language To Creative Writing



The cult of Mussolini in Italy is shifting a lot of a calendars. Happy New Year.

2 January 2013


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