Vincent Cablepots

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The Grumpy Prat (with apologies to TS Eliot, and Jennyanydots, the original Gumbie Cat).

I have a Grumpy Prat in mind, his name is Vincent Cablepots.
His forehead’s always rather lined, through cutting through financial knots.
All day he sits and writes and talks and passes time and chews the fat;
He spouts and spouts and spouts and spouts – and that’s what makes a Grumpy Prat!

But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done,
Then the Grumpy Prat’s work is but hardly begun.
And when Clegg and Cameron are dreaming their dreams,
He picks up his notebook chock-full of his schemes.
He is deeply concerned with the ways of the city
Their behaviour’s not good and their manners not pretty;
He visits the bankers chained up in his cellars,
And pokes them with poisonous sharpened umbrellas.

I have a Grumpy Prat in mind, his name is Vincent Cablepots.
His brain is always tangling with complex economic plots.
All day he sits and points and schemes on intra-coalition spats,
He spouts and spouts and spouts and spouts – and that’s what makes a Grumpy Prat!

But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done,
Then the Grumpy Prat’s work is but hardly begun.
As he finds that the bankers won’t do what he tells them,
Won’t buy all the wonderful rules that he sells them,
And believing it’s time for a measure that’s painful
Makes their bonus dependent on Amazon rainfall.
He tuts at their standards in credit control,
And tells them to plug all their capital holes.

I have a Grumpy Prat in mind, his name is Vincent Cablepots,
The bankers are, he thinks, the kind who don’t “beg pardon”, just shout “what?”
He sits and strokes his chin, engaged in crucial confidential chats,
He spouts and spouts and spouts and spouts – and that’s what makes a Grumpy Prat!

But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done,
Then the Grumpy Prat’s work is but hardly begun.
He thinks that the bankers just need more employment
To prevent them from idle and wanton destroyment.
So he’s formed, from that lot of disorderly heels,
A writing-machine run by bankers on wheels.
They run and they spin till their legs are too sore,
Churning out policies, speeches and law.

So for Old Grumpy Prats let us now give three cheers
On whom well-ordered economies hang, it appears.

*******************************

If you liked this, there’s more poems and sketches here, extracts from my novel here, and a selection of the best posts here. Oh, and please comment, like, share, whatever takes your fancy.

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One comment

  1. I never really liked Jennyanydots – but I’d gladly leave a saucer of milk for the Grumpy Prat! Very funny…

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