The shocking case of Corbyn, J.
(According to Theresa May)
Was when – alone, a Total Nude,
Exemplifying Solitude –
He took his Stand in Shades of Pink
When brexiting, and did not blink.
Instead of telling Eurocrats
That they were feral Alleycats,
And claiming that the Twenty Eight
Were Rats who’d rather suppurate
Than drive a very careful Bargain,
Dear Jeremy, eschewing Jargon,
In Birthday Garb, and in The Buff
Talked very kind and thoughtful stuff.
He listened, and he was polite:
To Geist he added charm and Zeit.
It happened that Theresa M
Observed his very naked Phlegm,
And told the French, ‘He has no socks.
Instead I’ll send you Liam Fox
And he will show you Britain’s Stance
While wearing good clean Underpants –
As one with Fashion and Panache
(Observe my Transverse Neckline Slash,
My Woollen Shrug, and Leather Jeans:
I speak as one of Stylish Means)
I know that you’ll be unimpressed
By Jeremy, who is Undressed.
Alas for Mrs. May, they booed
And found her manners tart and rude,
While Jeremy drew great applause,
Although alone, without his drawers.
If you can’t deal without your kit,
The other side will think you’re shit.