About the Inconvenient Ironist
I’ve spent over 30 years watching people and,
as Annie the Nanny, I helped families make sense of chaos.
I taught parents how to lead, how to hold the line, and
how to understand their children beyond the tantrums.
But what I really did (and still do) is observe.
And over time, that lens widened.
From family dynamics to societal dysfunction.
From bedtime battles to state-sanctioned stories.
From sandpit squabbles to power plays on the world stage.
Eventually, I saw it all as connected and started writing poems that did the same.
Joining the dots (with a smirk)
I don’t claim to be an expert in politics or economics.
But I do notice patterns.
I hear the same excuse in a press release that I once heard from a four-year-old.
I see the same power plays on the world stage that I used to watch in sandpits.
And when something doesn’t make sense (or makes too much),
the animals won’t let me stay quiet.
They squawk, bleat, and demand their say.
So I write.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone.
I don’t remember who said this, but it’s true, and I laugh a lot.
I grew up on John Cleese and Blackadder, and later, as an adult,
I enjoyed Mitchell & Webb, among other British greats.
Satire wasn’t just entertainment.
It was training.
I believe humour is how we survive.
And sometimes, how we wake up.
My work may rhyme, but it isn’t light.
It’s joyful in form, inconvenient in content and
contains a whole lot of squawks, bleats and honks.
Whose Shoulders I Stand On
(Look, I Need the Height)
Every writer has giants.
I have mine.
George Orwell: for clarity, courage, and refusing to look away.
Roald Dahl: for making wickedness charming and darkness fun.
Dr. Seuss: for smuggling serious truths inside silly rhymes.
Oscar Wilde: for dressing wisdom in witticisms and knowing the cost.
Mitchell & Webb: for reminding us that satire can be deadpan and deadly.
John Cleese, Blackadder, and all the British mischief-makers: for teaching me that laughter can be a weapon.
Julian Assange: for the kind of courage that costs something—and changes everything.
These are the voices I hear when I write.
They keep me honest.
They keep me laughing.
And they remind me that when the truth you speak is inconvenient, rhyme is a very good disguise.
Live Performance & Speaking
I perform my work live: in schools, on stages,
at poetry events, in theatres, clubs, and even
weddings and funerals.
My poems are written to be heard, not just read.
And whether the crowd is laughing, squirming, or
stunned into silence, they rarely forget it.
Don't be scared though; mostly they just laugh!
If you’d like to invite the menagerie to your event,
venue, or classroom, I’d be delighted to hear from you.
Bio
Anna Lussenburg is The Inconvenient Ironist —
a satirical poet, performer, and speaker based near Victoria, BC.
Formerly known as Annie the Nanny,
she brings over 30 years of professional observational insight to her work,
connecting the dots between personal behaviour and political dysfunction
with wit, rhyme, and the occasional emu.
Her work has been compared to Orwell, Seuss,
and Dahl — but mostly by people
who weren’t sure whether they should laugh or worry.
An English teacher once told her she reminded him of Chaucer.
She’s not sure poor Chaucer would agree, but she liked the compliment.