The Dishonourable Member
for Uxbridge and South Ruislip
Who is this archetypal Anglo-Saxon
Blue-eyed and peachy-skinned, topped by a flaxen
Residue of hair? Six foot and fleshy,
Flushed with ambition but with something fishy
About the shifty eyes. the well-oiled tongue
Honeyed by privilege, a life among
The moneyed classes, the unthinking ‘haves’
To whom the rest of us are ‘yobs’ and ’chavs’.
A Mummy’s boy for sure, whose right to take
The creamiest bun, the largest slice of cake
Was never questioned. An engaging prat
Stuck on a zip wire in a silly hat,
Recycling jokes in after dinner speeches
Fathering children, with unbridled breaches
Of parliamentary etiquette, his smile
Masking a glint of Machiavellian guile.
Master of half-truths and outrageous lies,
First-class degree in telling porky pies
Fed to the gullible on his behalf
In columns of the Daily Torygraph
And on the sides of double-decker buses;
Unable to imagine what the fuss is
About his racist homophobic sexist
Vituperations; and what’s more, a Brexist
Not by conviction, but by calculation
Of benefits to Boris, not the nation.
This blue-eyed bounder, this hubristic rat
Jumps at the chance to don another hat
Boasting that there’s no mountain he can’t climb
With due duplicity and given time,
Moves into Downing Street as if of right
Waving to Europe as it sinks from sight.
If you have any thoughts on this diatribe, Jill Boucher would
be pleased to hear them.