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Unread 04-24-2017, 11:02 AM
Nigel Mace Nigel Mace is offline
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Join Date: Apr 2012
Location: The Borders, Andalucia and Italy
Posts: 1,537
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Ann - of all the wise savants, a distressed lady might consult,
The regenerated cockroach seems a masterly result;
With antennae all aquiver, to tell flatulence from air,
So the bat-shit for May’s ‘Brexit’ is a surfeit to compare
With all deadly plagues before it
And the doggerel penned for it
Is an order of ordure past repair.

If you seek a dodgy ducker, May’s flight from the CPS
Makes most bankers look flat-footed, as they plan their own egress
From a London turned provincial, flogged to oligarchs whose purse
Funded last election’s buses, now more like the party’s hearse.
So… despite her cruel passion,
As a high-end heel for fashion,
Having collars felt by coppers could be worse.

She a leader for whom leadership means leaving out debate,
A parliamentary would-be Queen, in drag as Henry eight,
For she finds the Commons common, but would lord it in the Lords,
With tautologies quite sneering, and non-answers like records.
When Scotland’s MPs make her squirm
She fears their voters will confirm -
It’s her snap-poll snaps the Union afterwards.

While her kingdom's still united, let’s concoct a deadly plot
And combine the sense of millions to show millionaires what’s what,
For the ‘Brexiteers’, quite brainless, are spread over every seat,
So keep our voting tactical and we’ll hand them their defeat.
‘Euromania’s’ still the saner;
Let June show that May is vainer
And her Tory ‘Faragistas’ are effete.

Last edited by Nigel Mace; 04-25-2017 at 03:38 AM.
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