MAY I PRESENT YOU MRS MAY, WITH YOUR P45? (weekly poem)

MAY I PRESENT YOU MRS MAY, WITH YOUR P45?

At the recent Tory Party Conference, a gatecrashing

prankster handed Mrs May a P45 form whilst she

struggled with her speech due to a persistent cough.

May I present you, Mrs May,

With your P45;

For as Grant Shapps states, your career, (1)

Has taken quite a dive.

You may, (cough-croak) want to renew,

(Ahem) the 'British Dream';

Where all those at the very top,

Can cream off all the cream.

But you're becoming a dead loss,

Because all leaders are;

The products of the image men,

Straight out the snake oil jar.

Politicos rise to the top,

Upon the merest fad;

And fall down equally as fast,

When folk know they've been had.

And then the 'dreams' and 'visions' of,

'The Big Society';

Are all replaced by further tosh,

With faux sobriety.

The myth of leadership runs deep,

Amongst the hoi polloi;

Whilst the pretenders watch amused,

A posture they enjoy.

Messiahs died out, history shows,

Two-Thousand years ago;

And the belief they're still around,

Just aids the status quo.

What is required is all folk should,

Look at the state we’re in;

And then consign these charlatans,

To history’s garbage bin!

(1) The ex-Tory Party Chairman claims 30 Tory MP's want a

leadership contest. 48 signatures are required to initiate one.

© Richard Layton