Birdies, Blimps and Battiness


The 28th week of 2018 did see

A visit, from the mighty orange power that be,

he hoped that his journey across the Atlantic,

would bring salvation to the hearts of the football fanatics,

a tweet, a birdie, or even a par three

would surely erase the memory of a Croatian defeat.

It started so well for president flatulence,

he met with the prime minister in suit and tie extravagance,

dear Theresa was clad in Atwoodian dress,

and Melania looked her plastic-ey oppressed best.

lavish and ravish in Blenhiem palace.




The Don whisked open the curtains of his ambassadors air bnb

the grass and green of regents park was what he expected to see

however, to his confusion (yet pride to a degree)

he informed Melania, “in the sky, look, there’s a big baby me”

it is like the sky is a mirror, i’m all that I can see,

a fat wailing and whining right wing delicacy”

The rest of the day Trump spent beaming,

his face was now where the sun should be- like he had always been dreaming

All the while, this big baby blimp

had been gusted around London- never going limp

onlookers, whether pedestrians of the pavement or residents,

stared up at the sky, and half chuckled at the pretence,

the crowdfunders had spent 16 thousand

whilst the wise remarked “those who live in glass houses”


“You’re a rebel from the waist down” – Winston Smith