A short comic poem pondering on the pointlessness of the monarchy, and the disappointment in certain inspirational individuals who collect their New Years Honours without a trace of irony.
The Queen: The cream of London’s glitterati
now invites you to a party:
How you’ll smirk and rub your hands.
There’ll be wine and cheese, and MBEs, and OBEs, and CBEs
And cups of tea all sup-ped by the finest in the land.
If in your career you were anti-establishment
never you fear, for Auntie Establishment’s
always been one (so unlike her son)
to smile, forgive and forget
and your framed photograph and certificate shows:
you and Queenie in such an adorable pose
and they’re good for tourism, I suppose:
There’s centuries in ‘em yet.
Image via Wikipedia
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