Blonde Boris was born into riches
And now misbehaves day and night
His hair sends a clue
He has little to do
And breaks rules as if ‘twas his right
In the course of a typical sentence
He’s likely to lie more than thrice
For truth is his flirt
He treats her like dirt
Or a casual throw of the dice
He’s not strong on detail, they say,
Big Things are his forte – why not?
The bigger the fib,
The fewer will jib
As a theory it’s worth hankie s—t.
On one thing he stays strangely mute
Yet trumpeted loud yesteryear:
Out’s better than in,
On that side is sin,
Who cares what our exporters fear
Yes, Brexit was ready to cook
A joint that was almost roast
We’d feast and grow fat.
Tell the Ee Yew: Take that!
But alas the meat’s now merely toast
Good one! I also like to quote Yeats (The Tower, 1928):
ReplyDelete"There lurches past, his great eyes without thought
Under the shadow of stupid straw-pale locks
That insolent fiend . . ."
Sabine: I'm a Yeats fan but when it comes to Johnson I want the poison to travel directly from me to him. And in through his PICC (peripherally inserted central catheter) if he had one. Come to think of it, he could have have my old PICC, discarded just over a week ago.
ReplyDeleteHere, we would simply ask, "How do you really feel?"...lol.
ReplyDeleteSandi: I know that response - it comes from those who are detached from current events, who have simpler fish to fry. There aren't many. of those left in the UK. Those that hate BJ burn with a hard gem-like flame. Those who defend him do so out of ignorance or - more likely - hysteria. Detachment remains for those queueing at Heathrow or scrutinisng canned beans at the food banks.
ReplyDelete