Four glittering Cartier watch faces,
keeping the time in executive spaces,
handed by Holgate to high-flying wanglers
who did a good deal and wrangled the bankers.
$20,000 of wrist-wrapping bling
to ensure these fine workers continue their thing.
She came from big business where bonuses are blousy,
not in the service where gifts mark you as lousy.
Off to Senate Estimates (a.k.a. “friendly fire”)
she gives all the wrong answers, her own funeral pyre.
“It’s not public money,” she tries again –
freezing the atmosphere the more she explains.
Meanwhile old Scotty is out with the press –
calmly criticising the Chief Officer’s mess.
“Shocked and appalled”. He’s glum as a dumpster,
hiding his history of sharing ‘round plunder.
His eyes are thorny, like a thicket of thistles.
Christina is stabbed with the promise of dismissal.
Scotty’s act is important, he’s being his own decoy –
from Angus his friend to Power his gas boy –
They give him his gas and he gives them their power
and the money’s in the future – a nest egg or bower.
And what about the pools before the 2019 election,
bluing the seats of his special selection?
Scotty’s no angel – that’s clearer than water –
so he’s forced to bring old Holgate to slaughter.
She’s the sacrificial lamb on his altar of distraction,
thus the huge deal over someone else’s infraction.