All Politics Are Local

The union of this body
Seems to be coming apart.
Cells in the feet have rebelled
Against the stoic-celled heart.
Cells in the brain crawl away
And refuse to do their part.
"Save us from this flesh!" they pray,

While pretending to themselves,
They are anything other
Than what everything else is
In this parliament bothered
By back-bench insurrections,
Against the rules that smother
Rebels' hopes of redemption.