Bye-bye Boris Johnson
The Damned asked: didn’t we wish they were dead,
But even though they gave me a hard time, I don’t.
But if someone were to put a bullet through your head,
Will I be sorry? The answer’s: no, I won’t.
Scruffy and unkempt to the last,
You were the original Eton Mess.
Every one you pulled was fast —
A disgrace to our current Queen Bess.
At least The Pistols livened up the Silver Jubilee —
If you’d been on that boat, I’d have towed it out to sea.
You pulled the wool over my eyes,
Doing Glasto that time with Billy Bragg,
But wasn’t I in for a rotten surprise,
When you turned out to be a thorough slag.
You were always lacking in style and panache,
And singularly failed to cut a dash.
In this case schadenfreude won’t suffice:
It just feels we’re being far too nice.
I’m told your personal hygiene isn’t good,
And that in fact, like your morals, you smell,
So over your ugly face may they pull that hood,
In time for the chime of the division bell.
I think, even more than Elvis, your heart’s made of wood,
Which means it’ll catch fire as you rot in hell.
Julian Isaacs aka Auntie Pus (The Punk Balladeer) has been writing and performing poetry for over half a century. He has published two chapbooks, and his work has recently been included in International Times. He is currently completing an EP of poetry and music collaborations for release later in 2022.
new boots and pantisocracies 