Mogette, Brexit, Exeunt

MOGETTE, BREXIT, EXEUNT: VIVE L'EUROPE!

Prologue

Mogette, La Deux-Chevaux coquette

A Citroën car you see

Rolled from the Paris factory gates

In nineteen se’nty-three

Act I: A prep school in England, 1973…

MCMLXX one one one

Wrote little David Camer-on

With silver spoon and fountain pen

He did his Latin prep again…

…When, at the tender age of six

His kindly Magistra

Said “Cameron, when in a fix

Just think of  PANDOR-A”

Young Boris, at his own prep school

Looked through his tousled fringe

Slid out his five- inch wooden rule

And spit-balled Algie Hinge

“Johnson, boy, don’t clown around

The Latin master roared

You’ll conjugate IAMAQUO

Like “Mitto”, on the board

IAMAQUIS, IAMAQUIT

Wrote Boris on the slate

“Keep going then, you little tit”

Did mouthe his spit-balled mate…

Now Nigel F, the little tyke

Learned Latin too, with gusto

But mainly liked a verbal fight

With Smithers, Fark or Busto

And in that Anno Domini

Mogette, all fresh and new

Would bounce around the Vendée vines

A happy CV-Two

For in that Janu-ary,

Was a true red letter day

The Common bloomin’ Market

Was joined by the UK…

With Slade, Sweet, Dawn and Donny

The future now looked fitter

With Status Quo and 10cc

 EU and… Gary Glitter

And Mogette’s FUTURE owner he

Was sweet sixteen in Staffs

Tank Top and Noddy Holder’s shoes

Thought Europe wasn’t naff…

Act II  Windsor, England, circa 1977…

The Eton years, top hats and tails

The Wall Game, Alma Mater

And Dave would be PM one day

As Bojo thought “me later”

Then Oxford, Bullers Club for them

Three thou at the outfitters

With pig-heads and with privilege

They’re happy little critters

While Nige, in Dulwich, blustered forth

A taste for beer and jokes

Was soon acquired; then a place

A broker in The Smoke…

INTERLUDE

Mogette’s paintwork faded more:

French sunshine and clean living

While Maggie, back in eighty-four

Droned “Money? No more giving!”

So Thatcher claimed some money back

And Europe schemed and fixed

Accommodated Les Anglais

And tried no end of tricks

The years fly by, and at the end

Of the Millennium

Mogette finds a new owner-friend

Twas Noddy Holder’s chum

Fast forward, MMXV-eye

And June the twenty-third

Mogette awakes, and learns the news

It’s BREXIT, have they heard?

Act III   Somewhere in Europe, Third day of Summer 2016

And there they are, B, N and D

The first two sphincters smiling

A three-ring circus this must be

A prospect most beguiling…

Tis Kippers and Pandora’s box

A trashing of Good Will

With poker and pecunium

They’re Bullingdon-ers still…

They’ve preyed on fears of foreigners

They’ve promised jam, and borders

Jerusalem, your country back

And booting out those hordes…

Of lazy Poles, of clueless Lats

Of scroungers, scamps and scoundrels

“A Golden Age awaits us, That’s…

[…Er, “the way to save lots of money

And stuff?

And get me the PM’s job?”…
And create a vile smell of xenophobia for a bit...?
Thanks Boris; rubbish rhyme.]

An over-privileged buffoon

Twas Bojo’s chance to SHOUT

And crap inside the nest, the loon

Now who bails UK out?

FLASHBACK

Boris remembers Latin prep

And old IAMAQUO

He contemplates, then conjugates

All ready then, let’s go

IAMAQUO IAMAQUIS

IAMAQUIT, now hunt

IAMAQUIMUS, Er, QUITIS

Er, Er,

IAMAQUNT !

Act IV  Sainte-Cécile, Western France. This morning.

Mogette, discrète comme d’habitude

Shrugs, says to her mate Noddy

“The moral of this interlude

I’ll tell you, it’s quite shoddy…

For now you are not XVI

It’s L and X, be brave!

That’s sixty, not sixteen, time flies

So here’s a word I’ve made:

It’s called “Dummocracy” old pal

The formula’s quite reckless

You ask a simple question, Al

To all folk, bright or feckless…

And some will think quite long and hard

And some won’t think too much

And treat it like a Lottery card

Or X-Factor, and such…

So now we’ll have to Wait and See

And we shall see it through

Blockbuster in Se’nty-Three?

“They Haven’t Got a Clue…”

The Bully boys, red faces now

The EU on its knees

And UKIP’s finest MEP

Shouts louder : quelle surprise…

And JC’s party bickers on

And does that rather well

Tis Gilbert and ‘tis Sulli-van

The burlesque show from hell

Epilogue et Mores

So Mogette gets a wash today

Her paintwork fresh once more

She poses for a photograph

Then offers this Bon Mot:

“The easy choice is polarize,

To let the rich get richer

But ‘tis “ensemble” we must ride

And think of our kids’ future…

Liberté: a great idea

A word, on which to dwell

But don’t forget Egalité,

Fraternité as well…

The lesson here is GET INVOLVED

And always VOTE, dear friends

Abstention serves the Dummagogues

The Kippers, the FN’s

Tis not through mistrust, or through hate

That we will write new stories

MARCHONS ENSEMBLE, tis not too late

To dump those effing…

(in the interests of political neutrality, Mogette suggests that  the reader may insert the name of any political party here).

AB 27 VI 2016

Sculpture masks "Gorgones Taxus et Baccata" courtesy Dominique COUSSEAU, Ami de Mogette et Sculpteur.

FINALE MUSICALE: They didn't have a clue what to do, either: 

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