The (ERG) Thing

The (ERG) Thing

I had a strange dream that I want to share,

Inspired by an eighties sci fi feature;

Carpenter’s; “The Thing” was very much there,

Though this one was a different creature:

It was pale and gaunt like Jacob Rees-Mogg,

Bare naked; it stood near thirty feet tall,

Many heads burst from that dread demagogue;

Rees Moggs’s at the top, thus crowning it all.

Boris Johnson’s face, from its stomach grinned,

Iain Duncan Smith’s was there by its side,

Andrea Leadsome’s stern visage appeared;

“I am a wife and a mother!” it cried,

As Mark Francois’s, with nostrils flaring,

Came forth atop the thing’s member, glaring.

The face of Michael Gove emanated,

Its thick lips and glasses splattered with gore.

The thing grew evermore agitated;

Each new birth exclaimed with a mighty roar.

Angered and fearless before it I stood,

Holding dynamite with a lighted fuse;

“Time”, said I, “to be rid of you for good,

This country’s had enough of your abuse”.

Having uttered, I hurled the dynamite;

The thing roared and I yelled back, “Fuck you too!”

There followed a most satisfying sight;

I awoke smiling, the dream being through,

And the dreams’ denouements’ familiar ring

Is why this rhyme’s called “The (ERG) Thing”.