Boris strolls in to 10 Downing Street and Theresa hands the chalice on to Boris. Well, sup up, enjoy the sweet taste, tousle headed one.

Behind The Black Door.

As Tess’s tenure at Number 1O comes to a close
It’s ta-ta to our failed frazzled fading English rose,
Slowly down Downing Streets steps she grudgingly goes,
Then up steps blow-hard Boris, striking his grinning pose.

After passing ‘neath Boris’s victorious sneer
Tess turns, takes a look back shedding ‘nary a tear,
Theresa suppresses the smile that strives to appear;
One grateful Briton, glad to be gettin’ the hell outta here.

Outside the door where she’d once stood, stammering,
Boris is the boy for whom all the Brexiteers are clamouring;
Tess knows after six months of political Sturm Und Drangering
Boris will be beside himself, behind the door, getting a hammering.

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Theresa May gives up trying. And hasn’t it been long and trying?

The Continental Dogs Breakfast.

If I may say, I saw a sad picture in the news,
This Ms. May, I wouldn’t wish to be in her shoes,
Standing, down, a teardrop trickling from her eye,
The poor choked-up about to be ex-PM says bye-bye.

She gave it her diplomatic best
But her eloquence less than impressed;
Those long impassioned speeches she made,
Until told her welcome’s been long overstayed.

As Theresa turns her back on Number Ten
Ruing that she cannot be all things to all men
She shoulders her heavy baggage and I do believe
At last, friends and neighbors, Theresa’s going to leave.

No more trying on duplicitous deals,
No more clickety-clackety high heels,
No Theresa power walking Parliaments halls,
May has gone, and briefly, blessed silence falls.

A moment of contemplation as Tess departs,
Then the fighting for the Tory leadership starts,
What worthy will fill the shoes of the old dame?
Could another bouffanted blonde stake his claim?

The President sees Joe Biden throw his hat in the ring and turns on a bit of the old charm. Don just won’t respect his elders, cheeky impetuous youth that he is.

Kidult.

Don says he’s vibrant, strong and young,
He modestly stated this in his self -critique
Earlier this week.

To this childish delusion Don has long clung,
Yet most view our old boy as past his peak,
Practically, an antique.

Don has his guilt-edged golden tongue
Deeply, firmly wedged in his- cheek.
So to speak.

Forty-nine people- people, not numbers, but people – dead in a mosque shooting in NZ and an Aussie raving loony politician has the answer! It’s all due to those migrants ?! Back under your rock, Fraser Anning.

Too Right, Cobber.

Thank you for your deep thoughts, Fraser Anning,
No thanks, for the Right wing flames you’re fanning,
He condemns all violence, yet his dry eye darkly gleams,
For him it’s only the Right who can be left to go to extremes.

He’s saddened by Mosque shootings but
It’s not time to keep his diplomatic gob shut,
He’ll illuminate us of what we’ve been blind to;
Words Fraser has long had half a mind to.

First his ‘final solution’ speech brought screeches of indignation
From even Pauline Hanson and her all-inclusive One Nation,
But stating the victims of a Mosque shooting are to blame
Guarantees Fraser strolls straight into the Hall of Shame.

 

Cardinal Pell, off to jail, found guilty of abusing two young innocents. Still, he has a few (redundant) conservatively minded men who still support him.

Beyond Belief.

George Pell is due to serve six long years,
George has had quite the fall from grace,
He prays his appeal will reach Gods ears
And deliver him from this cold dark place.

But some do still believe the old Vatican envoy,
John Howard believes whatever George says,
Tony Abbott believes he’s innocent as a choirboy;
George believes… that’s an unfortunate phrase.

The esteemed Ann Coulter calls the President an idiot! Some say that’s stating the obvious, but with Ann it’s coming from the Right place.

Right, At Last!

Ann Coulter says we have an idiot for a President,
Not many, if any Liberals knew she could be so prescient,
Quite an outre thing to say by the far too Right Ms. Coulter,
They may be forever foes but, for today, few Left can fault her.
 

In times of Emergency desperate times require desperate measures, even if it means fiddling for funds for pis- piddling away on a wall.

Insecurities.

Donald is off on his latest low-down undertaking,
He needs money to fix a crisis, of his own making,
The Army of law’n’order fans of his border wall
Will now see Don pillaging Peter to pay Paul.

Building walls up was easy to say in an election run
But getting Mexico to pay is easier said that done,
He keeps calling about the millions of dollars they owe,
Not one ‘Hola’ has he got from the President of Mexico.

It matters not to Don that the funds are misappropriated
Or that real Democracy has been truly desecrated,
What do you expect when the megalomaniac you elect
Injudiciously, sadly, madly must get his vanity project?