Tony Hillier, the people's poet of Swindon, has put together a few words inspired by the latest Brexit shenanigans.
The House Has Spoken
The House has spoken
it looks like Britain may indeed be Broken
May indeed be broken?
Democracy drained from his pallid crow’s feet
face; forehead lines many not few
a Charlton comb-over begins to show
from this despatch box camera angle
on this long-standing forward
who’s scored more protest goals
than any other parliamentary player
yet he still has confidence
delivers prepared speech immediately
those two thirty votes crush this prime minister’s
latest dreamwalk in her wheat field
“He’s dropped his Brexit Bollocks!”
the loudest in the nation bay
both in and outside this Homeless House
outside which, blue Euro flags robustly waved all week
now non-stop Liberty Bell, death-knells democracy
Battle lines cross-hatch the Commons floor
There is no no man’s land
Fusillades front and back
How can he survive going over the top once more?
Dreamt of dad last night
father who from poverty and D Day parachute
never had an adult friend
for the rest of his wretched, house-bound life
he had no confidence
he too would table that vote of no confidence
Back in Swindon, Broken Britain high-flown
People’s Assembly Flag folded away
Facebook followers vehemently exchange
misunderstood beliefs through midnight hours
like seasoned table-tennis players
trying to decipher the spin of the Chinese whisper
batting curved balls over despatch box net
It can’t be done. Agreement cannot now be reached.
Someone will have to iron out the creases
in the MPs’ squirming faces
then face their voters at an unknown time
when this Brexit Shitstorm might never be forgotten
its battle scars fed into that pencil cross
regardless of mainstream and social media
As outside Parliament, big stage tv screen
video-orchestrates these Big Tops that have come to town
“Breaking!” Half way round the world
in post-colonial Kenya we hear gunshots
from a near-failed state
Al Shabab shoots from the hip again
people die as the vote and pen
not mightier than the sword
Barking Bercow shouts at the shoulders of giants
“Ordaaaahh! Ordaaaah! The noes have it! The noes have it!”
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