Ultra vires: Wise Nature stands not back nor does concede;

Thank God its primogeniture thrives beyond parted knees

Of bossy politicians giving birth to wanton powers

And the scientist men who do their best with floppy try-squares

Not Nature needs a seed alliance, that shores up heaping sands

Ground, crumbling, under factoids, huis clos consultations,

The lie guys meet the scry guys who brought in your bulk pollutions

As their debonair solutions

This tag team gone up wrestling grasps to work controls

With folds that sprawl the man, they cannot set their holds

On mutable fouweather straits; untethered, free, realised;

Nor e'en a vaccine

They've brought forth proof-imposing guilts, panache of supervision,

Powerful fears, and Sergeant Bilko-like assorted non-provision

First close your pliant minds, thereafter park all high street shopping

Keen to be seen to be doing, with a bully plan to hand

And from the start, and by their art, the theory men were hoisted

All reliance on the science set-up by the drive-by guys

First point you up the white coats, add them stature, pole position

When (wonder!) broader Nature breaches: shoot now your clinician!

These plaything white gowned figures are as cloths to wipe the floor with

The rabid clawed establishment instinct rips-out their maws,

Such gullible and faithful help relabel Abels all;

Feed for the fabled tabloid news, trashed in the accustomed way

For sure hard science in itself can't bomb, make a wrong play,

It's a violence to science that would temporise away

With erring criticism, one's good hand that keeps them clean,

You must assume for form believers' favours, since the pig

You worship on your table hosts a modified genome

Keep them intact these wrinkled facts of pure pellucid whiteness

For after all, incoming squalls shall cause you call to witness

The invidious signboard selves whose ruses tenderise the language

Which bankrolls fooled transsexuals, gender-frees; who thrust this ticket

Ah, yes, do blame the man, and not sin, you must endeavour

Whatever to forgive it, it's the man's disposable –

There's tarred and feathered Ferguson – they sacked unfit – you geddit?

His vanity was ask for huge resources, computations

A sum beyond the known-world, all extents akimbo

Yet, Nature keeps the feet that validate even an Agamemnon

Gone marching, marking, marring, the red carpet – overweening;

Those whose delights are sleights of piebald sublimations,

Bigged unkempt ideas

Those emblematic coffers of the sop, celebrity

Declared here are the man (or woman) scientist as pictured

By pen and ink sketch; corpus, odour, of the highest rank

Themselves evangelists announcing their decoy messiah

As if the kith of god - but not of God, nor humble,

Nor yet straight-stated, separated, selfless ones in mission

Nor persons placed much lower than that Principal they serve

Not persons whose earth revolves by Plan, not accident of being,

By marvellous wonder worker Love's immensity

Yet lo, the Nobel seekers, the would be breakers of the living God

(One whom they cannot know from cloned Monsanto corn-on-cob)

So as to have their day to hold high sway in titulum

Carry it off as priests, to think, unleash, uncounted fiction

Stayed up by pledge to fledge their science, grow it wings,

Unawares in the self of a self's gyrations, ego strings

Enmeshing intemperate would be gratulative grand designs

The primordial brew of the parvenu; achiever's neat moonshines

And yes, there are here other fish; inmates of politics

Whose cues, illusions blatant; the adventured undeceived,

Boldly their Big Lie hits the nub of all things they construe

Sieve grandly betraying atheist candours in their crippled hearts

No bigger thing than I myself is; plus – (sad) - my career

Loss of a finger or a friend is better than their craven steer

Which settles others' hashes and by which they seek to climb

Ambition to a darling apex; and we people are their mime

Scientists, politicians then; the Sadducees; the Scribes

Entangling in their words, and casting runic knuckle bones,

Incorporated unitary into a group prognosis,

Hymns the godfathers-of-lies in this unholy Game of Thrones