The Jabbermay. (With profound and sincere apologies to Lewis Carroll.)

by Kay Scorah

Twas brillig and the slithy Gove

Did fawn and fondle with the Trump

All mimsy were the Tory droves

(But David Davis got the hump).


Beware the Jabbermay, my son!

The pants that shine, the heels that purr

Beware that Doctor Fox, and shun

The furious Andrea.


“Seven days! Seven days!” he heard a wailing

And turned to smite the sickening Hunt

But his bike was toppled by the Grayling

And he fell to earth with a startled grunt.


And, as he lay there in a daze,

The Jabbermay, in Vera Wang

Came clicking through the Brexit haze

And incoherently she sang,


“Thou canst not fell the Jabbermay!

I scoff at ye, O Labour squabblers!

The Trump and I will now make hay

While you spout internecine cobblers.”