THE TILLS ARE ALIVE WITH THE POUNDS FOR BORIS

 Hello

Well, it's been a very long time since I last posted an edition of The Autolycan, so long in fact that I've almost forgotten how!  So I thought perhaps the best way of starting to resurrect it would be to take unashamed aim at what is in all honesty rather an easy target.  I hope you like it, if so I'll try to ease back in to writing again - I've missed doing it.  As ever, do pass it on to others if you think they would like it.

THE TILLS ARE ALIVE WITH THE POUNDS FOR BORIS

 

 

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes,

Girls with long tresses and fluttery lashes

Girls who are sexy with whom I have flings,

So long as they don’t think of exchanging rings!

 

One of the latter was Jenny Arcuri

Who came on my trade mission much to the fury

Of oddballs and weirdos and brash underlings

Like Lord of Impertinence – Mr Cummings!

 

Holidays paid for by Brownlow and friends

PPE contracts with great dividends!

Brown paper packages that go Ker-ching!!

This is what makes my life go with a swing!

 

When they shun me -

Overrun me -

When they melt away,

I simply remember my favourite things

And then lead myself astray!

 

Parties that went on inside Number Ten,

Nobody knowing just when to say ‘when’.

Elsewhere the lockdown and misery stings

But we carry on till the fat lady sings!

 

Turning the flat into somewhere quite handsome

Wallpaper rolls that each cost a King’s ransom,

Gaudy and pricey but I pull some strings

And Brownlow pops up to take care of these things!

 

Honours for cronies and mercy for chancers,

Cover ups so that you won’t find the answers

And Govey can wait for all time in the wings,

Now that is the best of my favourite things!

 

When MPs bite,

When the press stings

When I feel alone,

I picture myself – of the world I am King

And proudly ascend my throne!!

 

ANAGRAM CORNER 

WORLD KING BORIS

OR... BLOND WIG IRKS!