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First revealed SEP 17, 2023
Up to date 7 hours in the past
Victor Billot
Victor Billot is a Dunedin author. He’s the writer of the poetry assortment The Units (Otago College Press, 2020), and writes a weekly satirical Ode every Sunday for Newsroom.
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Bard Billot on the Baron (and Lord Winston the Undead)
The Kingmaker
Baron Luxon had campaigned lengthy and onerous.
It had been an extended and winding street
In the direction of the Fort of State that lay past the Vale of Tears.
He had toiled behind the deep fryer in a low tavern.
He had wandered in unusual lands promoting cleansing merchandise.
He had been put answerable for the nationwide scorching air balloon fleet.
He had signed as much as a bizarre cult of chanting mystics
And he additionally signed as much as the Most Secret Order
Of the Higher Room.
Now he was shut – very shut.
However the nearer he got here in direction of his vacation spot,
Difficulties appeared to mount up and confound him.
Firstly, a magenta Toad had climbed into his backpack.
Its identify was Seymour and the Baron couldn’t do away with it.
The Toad was heavy and it saved making crucial feedback.
“You’re a bit comfortable, Lux,” it informed him. “Harden up, ya shirt!”
Subsequent he reached the boundary of the Royal Property.
A border guard adjusted his tie beneath the studio lights
And demanded The Particulars from him.
The Baron discovered himself repeating his phrases mindlessly
In a uninteresting, trance-like state.
He started to perspire beneath the recent and fiery solar
And the silent watchful gaze of a crowd of backside feeders
Who gathered by the roadside with their petitions and pleas.
“Tax cuts for everybody!” shouted the Baron with pressured cheer
As he tried to flee via the throng of odorous peasants.
He edged round an enormous gap within the street.
“Assist,” he heard a voice cry from the bottomless pit,
“I fell down right here on the lookout for The Particulars.”
The Baron pretended to not hear Woman Nicola,
For there earlier than him was the Magnificent Fort of State.
He solid off his backpack and the heavy Toad.
He pushed via the huge and rusted gates
And strode throughout the cool and venerable flagstones.
Lastly he got here to the Nice Banquet Corridor.
He had arrived!
However simply as he strides in direction of the Golden Throne,
There on the shadowed head of the Nice Desk,
He discerns an eldritch determine
Lit with an eerie and unnatural mild.
The Ghost of Coalition’s Previous!
The Baron falls in horror to his knees.
Lord Winston the Undead rises in spectral glory!
“Nobody involves the Throne,” saith Winston,
“Besides via me.”
And there ready on the desk
With a quill and a pot of ink
Is a contract for the Baron’s soul.
Victor Billot has beforehand felt moved to jot down Odes for such luminaries as David Seymour, Nicola Willis, Michael Wooden, and Chris Hipkins.
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