The Ballad of Dom and Bojo
Written on 27th May 2020 at the height of the Dominic Cummings scandal
Two men who fed us snappy lines,
To hide the complicated.
“Take back control”, “get Brexit done”,
We swallowed whole, elated.
Odd couple in the thick of it,
A Downing Street sitcom,
PM dependent on his key adviser.
Classic Dom.
These men, who won elections,
Through their slick cut-through polemic,
Were now to run our country,
In the midst of a pandemic.
And soon we got a message,
To make lockdown a success.
The new one was “Stay home, save lives,
Protect the NHS”.
We all stayed home, well not quite all,
For Dom’s a special one.
His wife was sick, but he went out,
His work not yet quite done.
He popped across to number 10,
Though possibly contagious.
A risk, at least, against the rules,
And some would say outrageous.
The Cummings clan jumped in their car,
They drove 260 straight,
To splendid isolation
(on the family estate).
“You must stay home”, we’d all been told,
But this was an “exception”,
Not different rules, our PM said,
A bit of Dom “discretion”.
On the day of Mary’s birthday,
Cummings faced a major hassle,
A problem with his eyesight,
So he drove to Barnard Castle.
Love is blind, but Dom was not,
Nor being sentimental.
The date they took their family walk?
That’s just coincidental.
Short comings? Yes, we all have those.
When things are not aligning.
We get it wrong. How we respond:
That’s character defining.
Could Dom and Bo say sorry? No.
Though the need for it was ample.
No reflection, no circumspection.
No leading by example.
They thought that they could front it,
Accountability’s for fools.
It does seem that they’ve heard they have,
Immunity from rules.
Johnson simply cannot cope,
Without his key comrade,
The Dom’s not for resigning,
As a nation cries, “that Spad!”
If each man kills the thing he loves,
Just what has Dom put down?
The chance to win “the project”,
As the power behind the clown.
He now has the demeanour,
Of an unexploded bomb.
Or he’s fifteen moves ahead of us.
That would be
Classic Dom.