This week’s poem, Screaming Lord Sutch, is by a writer who goes by the name of Aniseed Chadwick.
There’s no more colour on the stand
The stage set now looks drab and bland
When they could have voted, ‘glorious insanity’
The winners were – hypocrisy/inanity.
Was it the top hat and leopardskin coat
That stuck in their conformist throat?
And not only was he not elected
But where’s the statue? Never erected!
Anyway, what do they know about politics?
Nothing! Unlike the astute raving lunatics.
To flock imbeciles who sat on the fence,
You wasted those policies that made ‘Sutch’ sense.
He could have exceeded your holiday hopes
By turning butter mountains into ski slopes.
Ridiculous fools, you’ve all been deceived
Where’s the passport for pets? It wasn’t achieved.
Genius effectively put back on the shelf
Is that why he hanged himself?
And never in parliament, oh what a shame
He could have driven the gravy train.
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