George Simmers/Margaret Thatcher No, I must never let this menace My relationship with Denis (Such a help-mate, though at times alas a bore), Yet sometimes I am able Underneath the Cabinet table To play footsie with a man who’s much much more. Norman Tebbit! Norman Tebbit! My emotion will not ebb — it Floods my being and it rages like a storm. Darling polecat, my heart’s yearning, And I might just be for turning, Oh my lovely Chingford Superman, my Norm!
Brian Murdoch/T.S. Eliot It’s always been my wish to be a poet. OK, I published stuff like ‘The Waste Land’, But that’s pretentious twaddle, and I know it! I want to write things folks can understand.
They say I’m up there in the avant-garde, but You can’t fool all the people all the time. To write in metre I’d be pretty hard-put, Besides, I’ve never really got the hang of rhyme.
An evening’s like a patient on a table? Come on! And all that guff in Prufrock’s Song! I know my images are pitiable; You can make that stuff up as you go along.
I wish I could do daffodils, or seasons! What kind of poem needs annotations to it? I wish I could do things with rhymes and reasons.