Crapperwocky, by Sue Barnard

I am not a silent poet

(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 Brexitbus, 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 gloat, Remainers weep.
The country can do naught but fall.
Meanwhile, the snarky Maybot seeks
a way to please them all.

“This is my deal,” the Maybot cries,
“Trade, backstop, and passports of blue!
Three times I set it forth to you;
therefore, it must be true.”

Cockwombles all refuse to see
the UK dying at a stroke,
and turn deaf ears as through the land
six million cry: “Revoke!”

“Oh loathsome day!” the…

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