Tuesday, 21 May 2019

My Milkshake Drives All the Fascists From the Yard

would be the obvious title for this poem

but leave its content redundant - the joke

already made, the bolt shot (or the shake 

thrown) and nobody really buying


a Kelis reference from a guy so not down

with the kids it hurts. Think instead

on the milkshake gagged at the behest

of Edinburgh’s finest: unsold, disallowed.


A clampdown, the far-right pissed

at the soft drink weapon-of-choice du jour:

used to be “bash the flash”, now it’s pour

a milky drink on the ugly suit of a racist.


So think on the milkshakes of Edinburgh

held back behind the thin blue line,

a D-notice in place lest they try to provide

a lactose antidote to the snake-oil peddler


mouthing off with the same old UKIP

drivel rebranded as a sop to Leave.

Imagine what one milkshake could achieve:

the arc, the hit, the spill, the drip, drip, drip.


© Neil Fulwood

Police tell McDonald's not to sell milkshakes ahead of Nigel Farage rally

Neil Fulwood

Neil lives and works in Nottingham. His first collection No Avoiding It is available from Shoestring Press; his second is scheduled for publication in 2019.