The Persians - an extract- after Aeschylus

 

                                                                           

Chorus :  Lord Donald, teeming West’s would be Master,

                Now trumpets daily his X

                With his Psychopathic Minister of War

                 Whose generals systematically retire,

                  The confidence in their government

                  Unlike the price of gold, plummets

                  Inwardly and as swiftly as a doomed

                 And as expensive as an F 35,

                Un-dazzlingly and as ungodlike

                With Hamster like eyes and candy child

                Looks, all Sugar-Daddied and Epstein

                Stained, calcified in dental horror;

                A laundry list of sailor’s complaints

                Stoking fuel fumes in the Persian Gulf,

                No longer hurtling chariots nor rocket fires

                Of famed Washington, but announcing laundering

                Issues and toiletries before docking in fair Cypress

                While Ares, the real God of War,

                Bulleting all foes to Hell and back,

                And a strait of men in white jackets

                Who’ll face them down?

                With what weapons, and with what tele-screen

                 And battle cries; can they open the Sea?

                Meanwhile Persia’s army – the Persians !

                The unstoppable Persians!.....