A Curse on Jacob Rees-Mogg

May pigeons spatter on your hat
all the buttons pop on your waistcoats.
May you be hit on the head
by a falling potted plant.
May your team place commas everywhere
like currants in a scone
and split ALL their infinitives.
Instead of supercilious words
plum stones will fall from your rat trap mouth
everytime you try to speak.
May all your millions be stolen
so you can learn what it is like
to be homeless and hungry.
May your children change their name
to disown you, your wife
run off with a raggle-taggle gypsy.
May your name never be mentioned
and your brief notoriety fade
after the court case in which you are
convicted of fraud. May you be forced
to sit upright in your cell for all eternity.


Angela Topping

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One Response to A Curse on Jacob Rees-Mogg

    1. Mighty Angela. Every word hitting home.

      Comment by Roisin White on 21 June, 2020 at 12:07 am

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