Thursday, 1 November 2012

Safe In His Hands

This patient here is far from spry;
He's overdosed on PFI.
His system took an awful kick
From excess treatment of the sick.

He's sixty-four with dreadful pain?
I'll just relieve him of his brain.
He'll be much happier, you'll see,
Without it. Well, just look at me.

And, since we're in improving mood,
Let's do an extra bit of good!
The patient has a minor cough?
Let's carve him up and sell him off!

He's suffered terrible reverses
From excess payment of his nurses.
The rot's gone to his very guts,
And must be cured with deeper cuts.

It seems he's haemorrhaging cash:
My surgeon's skills I'll up and flash!
We don't need doctors here, you know -
My chainsaw and my buckets, ho!

Hunt's patent snake-oil treatment will
Most likely cure, or maybe kill -
Dear public, why this foolish fear?
Do you not see there's profit here?

You surely cannot still believe
That I'm the sort who would deceive?
I'd never privatise by stealth -
I'm NewsCorp's Minister of Health!

© Philip Challinor

Two hospitals could be privatised at struggling South London NHS trust

Weblog: The Curmudgeon - You'll come for the curses. You'll stay for the mudgeonry.
Books: Philip Challinor's Books

2 comments:

  1. Some very clever trickery here with meanings! Gosh, I wish I thought this was a long way from the truth!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks. I am becoming increasingly convinced that satire is the first draft of truth.

    ReplyDelete