I’m Peppa Pig on the telly again / the one where Daddy Pig’s voted PM / in an episode entitled PORCE DIEM / where the power goes straight to his flat pink head / but he gets depressed and stays in bed / sick of all the media bleating / about who missed another COBRA meeting / or who exactly paid for what / and who took a free break somewhere hot / or who had a party or who did not / and how it all goes from bad to Patel / via Barnard Castle and Hancock as well / and lucrative contracts for the PPEs / straight to the pockets of the VIPs / that’s Valuable Insider Pals if you please / and how Pappa Pig was brought to his knees / valiantly fighting this deadly disease / and how he was NIBBLING not SWALLOWING the cheese / when the Dick-led Metropolitan phenomenon / were zip tying women on Clapham Common / and other areas of lockdown London / and his hilarious Peppa Cabinet were battening / on the catered buffet for the non-party gathering / while the rest of the general population / were serving the interests of the mother nation / surrendering basic circulation / even if they missed the lonely expiration / of Auntie Flo in her nursing accommodation / then queued for the rudimentary cremation / and hurried home for the official celebration / a gloomy Zoom with the other relations / (Peppa Pig is a porky old lark / but sometimes I’ll admit it gets quite dark)

I’m a rampaging robot / called THE BREXIT BOJO BOT / which Team Tory marketed as a Terminating Polyglot / and threw together in their Right Wing Workshop / but tragically forgot / to fit a big red button marked STOP / and now the B3’s totally lost the plot / speaking & sparking and running too hot / using up what little data it’s got / to screw things up a terrible lot / and tying the country in one big knot / BEEP BEEP Irish Sea Bridge BEEP BEEP Royal Yacht… / BEEP BEEP we may party but you may NOT / meanwhile tossing dodgy coins down its slot / babbling and bubbling and burbling a lot / until Sunak says Deadly Force Authorized, TAKE THE DAMNED SHOT