The spinners dawdle on the bough,
In windless days and cider haze
The sozzled wasps are tetchy now,
While in their Norfolk forest home
Sciurus vulgaris (squirrels, reds),
Well into summer's injury time,
Peruse the news and shake their heads:
"It's all these greys," a rodent said.
"They're oversexed and overfed,
They carry pox, they're violent, rude,
They take our jobs and nick our food,
And what would happen if your son
Announced he'd like to marry one?
It's you who'd have to take the flak.
I reckon they should send 'em back."
Not far away a father hid,
An outlaw since he'd whacked his kid.
Dead keen on human rights, his son
Had hauled his dad to court, and won.
The ruling that the judges made
Was that a ten-grand fine be paid.
Considering this regimen
My dad must owe me millions, then.
New socialism? Well, not quite.
From Mr Darling, Wednesday night:
"Money spent on schools and health
Will rise in future with our wealth,
So get a pension, don't be late,
You can't depend upon the state."
Which means that if you're old and ill
Your rulers won't pick up the bill.
I pondered on that one in bed,
Since that was what the Tories said.
New government - same cock and bull.
Darling, you were wonderful!
Abroad, the fearsome Hurricane
Georges snaps off a weathervane;
At home, a rustle in the hedge
Denotes his brother, Light Breeze Reg.
But quite a different type of wind
Blows in the media: "Ah have sinned."
As Stepford pushes sense aside
To watch Bill Clinton crucified.
Backstreet surgeons! Here's a chance!
Bored with doing breast implants?
Steady scalpel? Perfect vision?
Try your hand at circumcision!
The NHS may hand to you
Those cases which they will not do -
And lucrative are breasts and lips,
But circumcision gets the tips.Reuse content