The War On Gangs

If a 'gang' is "a group of people with compatible tastes or mutual interests who gather together for social reasons" (Dictionary.com), then David Cameron wants to declare war on:

Hip-Hop, Gary Glitter,
     Brady Bunches, Football Fans,
Famous Fives, Secret Sevens,
     Harry's Hogwarts, Boy Bands,
All-American Airborne Armies,
     Custer's Clusters, Mongol Masses,
Soccer Squads, Tennis Teams,
     Golfing Gangs, Kung-Fu Classes,
Hippie Herds, Fantastic Fours,
     Cabin Crews, Ku-Klux-Klans,
Chess Cliques, Party Posses,
     Gaming Geeks and fucking France.
Cub Clubs, Crochet Circles,
     Travelling Troupes, Demolition Derbies,
Tory Tribes, Right-wing Rings,
     Shady Sets and Political Parties.

...and who could possibly argue with him?

OK, So I'm Quoting Blake

Another speed poem from The Poetry Takeaway, this time written for a lovely girl called Erin, who loves Tigers so much, she sponsored one.

Bengal Tiger, shot by King George V in Nepal, 1911--Norwich Castle Museum

Tiger, Tiger, burning bright,
Stalking through the museum at night, 
Roaring loudly as he paces
Through the dusty display cases.
No amount of stuffing can sap
The life from Erin's favourite cat:
He lives, he breathes, with all the vigour
Of his cartoon namesake, Tigger.
Endangered he may be, but still,
His beauty lasts beyond the kill.
In his eyes, a noble light -
Tiger, Tiger, burning bright.
 

Cage Fighting With John Sell Cotman

A speed poem from the Poetry Takeaway, written for Laurence, for whom this is somewhat of an obsession...

The gallery was rammed that day
With Norwich's great and good:
Periwigged and buckles shined,
And an artistic thirst for blood.

"Painting's just too tame, these days - 
It's not been fun for ages.
If only these artistic wimps
Were made to fight in cages!"

So Cotman stripped, and John Crome whipped
His face off with barbed wire,
While Cotman pounded  Johnny's head
'Til he began to tire.

The rounds went on, and neither John
Had the strength to win 'em,
And neither painter could foresee
The dropkick from Henry Ninham.

Ninham raised his arms and yelled
"You fuckers know I'm well hard!",
But he was felled as his pride swelled:
Hamstrung by Emily Stannard.

The Norwich School was cunting cruel,
With broken teeth and collars,
But all the crowd agreed out loud
That it was better than watercolours.

[I really hope a researching History of Art student finds this...]