i notice that the propensity to write in rhyme is catching
that when i read others, more versification is fulsomely hatching
but yes, on a rainy day each minute painfully crawls
and so we write about McGonagall and shopping malls.

and its true, whatever rusty jewels our pens disgorge
they're nothing near as bad as the blither some politicians disgorge
especially in australia, this week of all to cometh
when promises like comets streak the sky and yet will plummet

when our own election finally consumates its self
and for three more years our citizens shall lie forgotten
upon the shelf.