Tulipvangilism

Political Fact
Or not.
It is from the head
That we rot.

There is no such thing
As Original Sin,
It's the conscious spin,
With unnaccountable transnational ring,
That makes this Political Fact detestable.

A not entirely unattractive prospect
Politically, quotically, such trickery.
Female, Asian and Muslim
A White Liberal's wet dream
On Hampstead and Kilburn hallowed grounds.

The British establishment
Has always had
A soft spot for
A South Asian dynasty

A granddaughter,
That Bangladesh begot.
Chewed the bones of the 2009 Pilkhana massacre,

To Aunty, 

Representing the party and government of her Aunty,

And her uncle's military 'restructuring'

Then deleted that archive of blog posts.

Six years down the long game,
The return into autocracy,
Is clearer to us.
Like watching an implosion in reverse.

The first move was the boldest one,
Mutually beneficial to both partners,
On each side of the border.

Lights camera action.
With socialist blusher,
A sepoy's revolt.
Sends dissent through the Bangladesh Rifles,

A blusher to mask
Assassination's marks.
The first powerplay of the session.

Roll on 2013,
At the court of Putin,
On a mission for a fission reactor,
Stockpiles of small arms,
Dipu Moni's small charms.
Not what I would call a
"two second private meeting".

Meritocrats argue
While tonight the meritorious await death,
And the mediocre and privileged await election.