Finvola Dunphy is a new contributor to Nerve. This is a poem about her views on democracy.

As a young person attempting to keep up with the tumultuous political scene, I quickly became disillusioned. The out-of-touch comments from London-centric politicians who are more concerned with political point scoring than resolving pressing issues, seem wholly removed from the electorate.

I tune in regularly to ‘Prime Minister’s Questions’ naively expecting organised debate and lively political discussion on matters concerning the whole of the United Kingdom. Instead, I am punctually met with a rowdy circus of evasions and sneering remarks that are not only immature but utterly insensitive in the wake of increasing homelessness and a desperate NHS.

It seems to me that those politicians who campaign for justice are the most corrupt. Those who preach about truth are lying through their teeth. Nigel Farage guaranteed £350m to the NHS after Brexit and yet, on the day of the election result declared his pledge a mistake!

There is a mass feeling of political injustice among British citizens and it is easy to see why. It is for this reason that the newspaper snapshots of Farage with his beer and Boris on his bike failed to amuse on my commute to work as I pass street after street of people sleeping rough. I wrote this poem expressing these sentiments.

I am by no means, suggesting that the whole of Westminster is unscrupulous but I would rather save the pub photos for reality TV stars.


House of Commons

House of Lords

Leaders, Members

Committee boards

Voting. ‘Hear!’


A big fat room of


Shout louder!

Stamp your feet

Puff out your chest

Avoid defeat.

Go on then…

‘To EU Membership!’

Tutt tutt cheer

‘Fuck the penmanship!’

Write it down

Quick before they…

What? You think we’re…

Chit Chit hearsay…

Order! Order!

Let’s be civil.

The right honourable man

has important drivel

Tick tick tock

Our time has ended

That’s work done

Do you think we offended?

Oh who cares

A beer Farage?

We’ll meet the commoners

On Mama’s old barge

Cigarette Boris?

Now get ready

Watch the problems rise

like the smoky eddie.

Same tomorrow?

You sly old fox!

Well as long as votes

Are in the ballot box

Ding Ding Ding

Round Two, here goes…

First strike Corbyn

May takes the blows

Order! Order!

The referee

Blows his whistle

As he sips his tea

No knock outs today?

Of course not old bean!

We’re much too demure

To make such a scene.

But aren’t we supposed to…

What? Find solutions?

Yes about…

What? Fucking noise pollutions!

No no m’colleague

You misunderstand

See, we’re just a distraction

So things go on as planned

Our little facade

Is a circus, a show

We’ve all be trained

In acting you know?

That’s how it is

How it always will be

So the peasants

Can go around shouting ‘We’re Free!’

Off you go boy

You’ve made it now

When you enter the house

Don’t forget to bow

Wave to the masses

Even throw in a wink

Let the media pounce

Then we’ll go for a drink

A Whiskey for you sir?

Er… Scotch for me

Ah isn’t this grand?

Good old Democracy.

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