Harpooning the Whale
A Lampoon, I think… At any rate, it’s the first thing I have penned for an age…
Boris has badly bruised
his broad-beamed British bulldog.
Like an Orwellian Churchill,
he sucks on the butt-end of a joke cigar –
a stogey, for the bogeyman of Europe.
The ‘Prima Obscura’ of sunny uplands,
turned Captain Ahab
to his wailing ship of fools.
It’s hard for a bard to pen the epic saga
of this sagging Aga Khan.
The Lexicon Brexitcon –
Anglo Saxon action plan –
that neither acts nor plans
on behalf of the better half of England.
Churchill Two calls down the Furies
on the EU – Herman Melville’s
New Moby Dick –
And a crew of dullards polishes
the harpoons, in sick fascination.
A nation of speculators chasing a whale.
A monster mammal much harder to swallow
than the tale of blubber from babbling Boris.
We’re due to hit the rocks
before the clocks go forward,
and Albion loses an hour. And yet…
We get to watch the World
draw clear of our wreckage,
as hapless leavers reckon to measure
The yawning gap.