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ODE TO CHRISTINE KEELER AND PROFUMO SCANDAL
(Another recent sex-and-politics poem. Based on her famous nude 'Scandal' photo.)
Why are you sitting there
In a back-to-front chair,
Face framed by long, loose hair
And propped up by arms pair?
Inviting men to stare
Upon your body bare?
Is that the means by where
You were Profumo’s snare,
Catching him unaware
When he had that affair?
About him did you care
He was not yours to share?
What trouble did upflare
Within the public glare!
Cheat, then lie John P. dare,
His wife’s feelings to spare.
To House he did declare
That there was no affair.
“A SCANDAL”, headlines blare
To readers everywhere,
Mixed with a spying scare
Linked to the Russian bear.
The politicians tear
Out their receding hair
In self-righteous despair.
The Tories had no prayer,
Damaged beyond repair,
Under Macmillan’s heir
They suffered in vote share,
Defeated fair(?) and square.
“LABOUR WINS”, news declare,
Wilson took P.M.’s chair.
Why are you sitting there
In a back-to-front chair,
Face framed by long, loose hair
And propped up by arms pair?
Inviting men to stare
Upon your body bare?
Is that the means by where
You were Profumo’s snare,
Catching him unaware
When he had that affair?
About him did you care
He was not yours to share?
What trouble did upflare
Within the public glare!
Cheat, then lie John P. dare,
His wife’s feelings to spare.
To House he did declare
That there was no affair.
“A SCANDAL”, headlines blare
To readers everywhere,
Mixed with a spying scare
Linked to the Russian bear.
The politicians tear
Out their receding hair
In self-righteous despair.
The Tories had no prayer,
Damaged beyond repair,
Under Macmillan’s heir
They suffered in vote share,
Defeated fair(?) and square.
“LABOUR WINS”, news declare,
Wilson took P.M.’s chair.
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