A sometimes surreal exercise in cooperative writing to be performed by a rotating cast of Torontonians, one hundred words at a time.
Sunday, October 23, 2022
Trickle-Down Comeuppance
Poor Liz Truss
Begat a fuss
So certain, she
In ideology
She went all-in for the pedigreed
To pay for it— “Well, there’s no need,
Trickle-down will work!”
Hmmph. Indeed.
From get-go, it appeared demented
Her program’s dead now, unlamented
And with tight smile and lame excuse
Poor Liz endures the House abuse.
But soon that cabal of Brexiteers,
Those liars, inbred toffs and peers
Will move to cut their political loss
By offering up another boss
And Charles as King will host to tea
another inept mediocrity.
Pound down, rates up, prices surging—
Starmer's smiling, so too is Sturgeon.
Image by James Ferguson. This drabble was written October 18th, which made it rather prophetic; it was alas “overtaken by events” by publication day.
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