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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