Broad Thoughts From A Home started out some years ago as a poetry blog for National Poetry Writing Month. Fans of Robert Browning (I'm sure there must be some of you out there) may recognise the sly nod to one of his works.
Since then the blog's content has been quite varied, but every now and then it seems appropriate to resurrect its original purpose. One such occasion is today, which is National Poetry Day here in the UK. In honour of which, here is a little ditty I penned recently - in total dishonour of the current abysmal state of British politics.
Fans of Brexit, look away now.
CRAPPERWOCKY
(with profuse apologies to Lewis Carroll)
'Twas Brexit, and the slithy Gove
did drone and prattle all the while;
all creepy were the Rees-Mogg's leer
and the Farage's smile.
Beware the BoJoBus, my friends;
the figures lie, the words deceive:
"A fortune for the NHS"
to tempt you to vote Leave.
Beware the immigration meme,
the poster that incites to hate,
the promise to "take back control",
the lies exposed - too late.
As Leavers crowed, Remainers wept.
The country can do naught but fall.
Meanwhile, the snarky Maybot sought
a way to please them all.
"This is my deal!" the Maybot cried,
"Trade, backstop, and passports of blue!
Three times I set it forth to you;
Therefore, it must be true!"
Cockwombles all refused to see
the UK dying at a stroke,
and turned deaf ears as through the land
six million cried: "Revoke!"
"Oh loathsome day!" the red-tops screamed
when Leaving Day did come and go.
"Tusk! Tusk! What will befall us now?"
Response: "We do not know."
The Maybot fell. The BoJo tried
to force No Deal at any cost
by riding roughshod o'er the rules.
He fought the law - and lost.
And all the while the Cameron
(creator of this clusterfuck)
wrote memoirs in his garden shed.
As if we give a ****.
'Twas Brexit, and the slithy Gove
did drone and prattle all the while;
all creepy were the Rees-Mogg's leer
and the Farage's smile.
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