A response in poetry form to recent attempts by the likes of Laurence Fox and Suella Braverman to stir up trouble around Armistice and Remembrance Day by using unproven threats to poppy sellers and the Cenotaph in order to further their own ends.

‘Twas Saturday, and up the smoke
In Wetherspoons across the land
The drivel that the gammons spoke
Grew difficult to understand

‘Twas Armistice, all over town
They belched into their British beer
And, holding flags up upside down
Did march for all that they held dear

Not that they’d ever served at all
Or fought at all in foreign lands
‘Twas only that their brains were small
And all a gammon understands

Is white is right, and all things beige
Apart from sausages and ale
Did put them in a proper rage
As did befit said British male

The monuments! It’s down to us!
To save them from the heathen flags!
I’m knackered though, is there a bus
Or anywhere to buy some fags?

Cry God for Charlie, Lozza too!
(That bloke on Twitter, and the King)
You got some Charlie, mate? I do
Let’s snort a line and have a sing!

The National Anthem – you go first
Er…Land of Hope…forgot the rest
It’s hard to sing when fit to burst
Ain’t patriotic pride the best?

Where are we going? I don’t know
Oi, which way to the Cenotaph?
It’s that way, mate – and off they go
It isn’t though, the children laugh

And on they marched, the gammeroons
Blood vessels bursting all the way
Around the block to Wetherspoons
As they had done back in the day

© Gail Foster 6th November 2023

PS I had a very tasty halloumi burger in the Orangery in Wetherspoons in Exeter recently.
Just saying.