A poem inspired by Boris Johnsons Brexit negotiations, as reported by, BBC2 Newsnight, 10 December 2020.
Looking at where I am, I find myself at a dinner table, in Brussels, and
devoid of the anticipated fish dinner,
feeling downbeat, hungry, full of regrets
and with just
three weeks to go
before my people, The British, turn to feast,
in desperation, upon
Get a grip, I tell myself. Such an eventuality is really no big deal.
And on an upbeat note – unencumbered by Dom Boy, and unencumbered by the people –
it will be so easy for me, with such a very, very clear runway, to go that extra mile – and to
Complete and unadulterated sovereignty.
Better for Britain.
And, such is my situation that there is no
going back. Not for me. Now now. Not ever.
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, 11 December, 2020