A sonnet written on the occasion of Lord Alan Sugar’s resignation form the Labour Party:
So who invited that spiv to the party?
No, we don’t want his cut-throat sort round here
His anti-social manners are so nasty
He’s nicking all the food and selling beer
He’s telling all my mates that they are fired
And acting like he bloody owns the place
His snotty, bossy, snobbery is tired
I’m losing friends who hate this public face
He came in with another party crasher
And now he’s gone but not cleared up his rubble
He’s got a better offer – somewhere flasher?
And now we’re spared the need to take the trouble
– To turf Lord Cuckoo out of Labour’s nest
– Which leaves the task of turfing out the rest
