'Aye-aye', 'hear-hear', sang tired chorus,
hearing debate, debate, debate,
then, on cue, with tumult raucous,
starts another to pontificate

their voices rose unto the galleries
where painted ladies gave their view
as if the exercise helped lose 'em calories
in nod of applause or heckle of boo

'He's good', 'He is', 'He must be so',
'I heard it from his very own lips',
'Don't tell me that he's got ego,
He needs it in case he slips'.

"he's like a bull in china shop,
he lacks finesse and savoir-faire,
besides, his head looks like a mop,
his pate asprout with unkempt hair!"

the ministers shuffled on their seats
bade Prime Minister rise and speak,
the angels yawned and looked away,
a waste of yet another day

the lions roared
the angels laughed
and when bear clawed
G-d looked past

the rigmarole itself played out,
in deference to ritual
laborious talk, laborious shout,
convention as habitual,

in dark corner came a cry
'twas barely heard by passer-by
the house is small, one bedroom,
latrine outside with no headroom

in celestial court there's outcry
as tears of anguish reach the sky
G-d roars in pain, seraphim quake,
And claws the heavens for His namesake