• C. Peters

A Revolution of the Times - Part 5.2


Hugh instigates street protests and loves it…

Inflation was hurting, shortages were frustrating, tax was squeezing, corruption was erupting,

Public belt tightening, hard choices were frightening, paychecks depressing, and politics, well…

But all was well for Hugh, inflation hurting him from too much swelling, squeezing, corrupting,

His hard choice who to loosen his belt to, who utters ‘I want ta’ then rhymes with ‘luck' to him,

Hugh's former dissatisfaction a distant infraction to his new disposition, not that we pitied him,

That transformation was all Lizzy's doing, partly from doing her, which in itself was dizzying,

She installed in him a sense of ambition, of mission, he was a missionary to her satisfaction,

And she was enthralled by him, abs, condition, size of munition, missionary for her satisfaction,

Submission to any position, body his to own, a disposition she owned, despite groans, moans,

Every Thursday she got on her knees to prey and obey, and while he did just have his say, his way,

She meant more than other lays, gave more all ways, made him feel more than a sordid knave,

He sort-of saw that he was able to take her mind away and amplified her strength as a renegade,

He charged her like a battery by taking charge of her anatomy, freeing her from trouble and worry,

And so what if on the back of her he tried to make a bit of money, of that he was not at all sorry,

What the philanderer thought her philosophy needed was less philanthropy, more plutocracy,

Which is why he couldn't let go of selling out Lowe’s assemblies if they did transform democracy,

He wanted her to succeed, was genuinely pleased to see her achieve, but want became need,

He talked up his little scheme to clients and was overconfident about Lizzy Lowe's compliance,

He belittled the intellectuals she involved and insisted that he had the whole scheme sewn up,

He implied the assemblies were inevitable, to make money his clients needed to be opprobrious,

They saw it reasonable that the assemblies would allow them to market services to an audience,

They saw it conceivable the data they’d gather could be invasive and invaluable, broad and dense,

And got the sense that future senators could be selected not by votes but by their own greed,

As if they didn't already seduce tame MPs, but cakes once had do cause a diabetes of sleaze,

So it was that investors one by one said 'yes please' to a stake in Laugher's laughable wheeze,

Laugher made his bed, he'd bet his prestige on whether those ideas of Lowe’s might go ahead,

Bedding Lizzy far more than getting head or ahead, his money and credibility wed to the viability -

Of the Citizen Assemblies, supported by no political Party, the baby of just one lonely MP,

Yet the public had sympathy, they were agitating for something simple to end the situation -

Whereby the economy wasn't growing, inflation and cost of living was rising, corruption stifling,

While the government and Parliament were struggling at even pretending on doing anything,

Lowe's arguments were winning, but nothing was happening, stagnation was affecting everything,

Hugh was worrying, his clients were starting to question things, his reputation was deflating,

But again his repugnant behaviour saved him, by eavesdropping on the customers in his gym,

And using the women who he charmed to drop to their knees and pay succour to his fifth limb,

He found a form of cunning he didn't know was within him, he coiffured an obscure rumour…

He overheard a gossiping gymmer discussing a Westminster conspiracy that'd cause rancour,

He then embellished this to consciously cause a crisis, feeding it to those who felt his enamour,

Sipping gin after fucking the sexy self-concious socialite one night, he conferred her the insight,

A daughter of a knight, her father's second wife editor of a spewing news site, that'd delight -

In the scandal, which he also fed to Chantal, the Yank yanking him in the office who loved gossip -

As much as fucking him, she was seeing a muck-raking journalist who’d dine out on the snippet,

Hugh then told the goth, a blogging burgeoning anarchist, who sucked on his every dirty word,

So like wild fire in rotting wood, the incendiary thing he heard grew and became as good as true,

Lastly he told Lizzy Lowe, who he knew would know of the now whispers and call for a review,

The PM's poo-pooing of this ask meant the flames spread fast, ensuing a wide protest at last,

The bastard PM's response to the rumoured misdemeanour sent even his own MPs aghast,

And the angry public streaming through the streets of Westminster, screaming blue murder,

All due to the murmur a few Cabinet Ministers were procured by a Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia,

The sordid idea that Privy Counsellors to the Crown weren't really chosen by the Prime Minister,

Instead they were selected by the royalty from another country who donated to their Party,

Partly to ensure arms and state assets were sold cheap, but also oil prices could remain steep,

To reap their spoils they also oiled the palms of opposition MPs to ensure they would not cheep,

The donations were based on some evidence and fact but the broader rumour mostly lacked that,

But rotting wood needs only a spark for an inferno to enact, a fiery public ire was untapped,

A raging mob rampaged from landmark to landmark, a citizen revolt, capital city under sack,

Hugh just laid back with his wife and her pole vault track-and-field teammate, front-to-back,

The strife and the attack brought a twist of fate so both sought his comfort and it got intimate,

He not only got more than he could possibly have been hoping from his lies, scheming, cheating,

Women, crimes, clients and cries all connecting, yet all differing in what they were expecting…

How low Hugh would go using women like Lowe, only Bodkin knew he’d soon reap what he sowed.

See Part 5.3

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