A spud that did not make the grade/
When sent to join crisps being made/
Created a scare,/
For this bombe de terre/
Was an old ready salted grenade.///
A spud that did not make the grade/
When sent to join crisps being made/
Created a scare,/
For this bombe de terre/
Was an old ready salted grenade.///
The Welsh police put a red flag on/
A threat to the odd passing wagon:/
Give in to the urge/
To stare at the verge/
And risk being slain by a dragon.///
A governor faced with disgrace/
To do with his yearbook and race,/
By owning some pix/
He then tried to nix,/
Is trying quite hard to lose face.///
The prospect with which we are faced/
Should Britain do Brexit in haste/
And leave in a hurry/
Is rivers of slurry/
And mountains of putrefied waste.///
Three men caused a hullaballoo/
By having a Northern Line screw;/
Enjoying relations/
Through several stations,/
They got off around Waterloo.///
Theresa the Strong and the Stable/
Is lacking support and unable/
To push through Plan A,/
Resists a delay,/
And won’t take No Deal off the table.///
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2019/jan/29/may-brexit-brady-amendment
Dear Brussels, I hope you can see/
That though I did freely agree/
The deal we both signed,/
I’ve now changed my mind:/
I’m sorry – it’s not EU, it’s me.///
The UAE handed a prize/
To those doing most for the rise/
Within that great polity/
Of gender equality,/
Of which all the winners were guys.///
A mallard who sadly got stuck/
On Niue has run out of luck;/
A canine attack/
Has silenced his quack,/
The pioneer now a dead duck.///