This is a piece of ludicrous, literary loutishness that I have dragged out of my files to celebrate the amazing success we are witnessing, at this very moment, in the search for a Brexit solution that respects everyone’s red lines.
The objective of this poem is to make someone other than myself laugh. It was written in June 2016, but it gives me no pleasure at all to remark upon my foresight or its relevance today.
Mysteria
Over the oceans of meandering minds
Thoughts are blown by wasteful winds
Towards the shores of amazing Mysteria
Where mystery meets hysteria
This state is no dreamy dystopia
Nor any useful, youthful utopia
This is a nation where creation’s gone crazy
Where the worthiest tasks are given to the lazy
Electors in this place, on whose votes some depend
Are deceived until their very end
And, at that end, when no truth is revealed
The laws which were promised are mostly repealed
For what the people want, the elected can’t give
Nor can people live how they’re told they must live
And yet they’re hysterically happy to be
Living out their life’s own mystery
In the past, when people had no choice
The royal or religious had the only voice
In Mysteria both forces have fought together
To ensure electoral confusion forever
Amen to that, some dispossessed may say
Those that can see no other way
They who consider themselves well-treated
Whose patience in poverty is never depleted
So, let those who enjoy the challenge of travel
Take action as society begins to unravel
Get the cheapest tickets while stocks still last
And leave behind your inglorious past
Make your way to that luxurious land
Where even agendas are totally unplanned
Bring excitement to the brink of hysteria
Emigrate to that land called Mysteria
With apologies to those who do not care
And they who find themselves already there