If Brexit isn’t a “significant national occasion,” I don’t
know what is, so let’s order up an ode. Hey, Carol Ann Duffy – you can’t hide
any longer -- step up and versify.
As someone who has never written a line of poetry since universally
bad reviews in the Second Grade, I shouldn’t offer advice, but I can’t help
myself. Let’s start with rhyme, “there once was a man from South Dorset, whose
tariff was so long...”
OK, OK, I give up. I’ll just suggest themes.
The obvious way to begin is by looking at precedent. Historically,
most poems feature heroes and villains. If the ode were written saga-style, I’d
suggest avoiding pesky lawsuits by using allegory. The story could begin with David
the Unræd and move on to Thėrese de Peut-être. Key parts would
go to Boris Not-of-Brussels and Jeremy the Inscrutable.
Or, Carol Ann, maybe not a stodgy poem -- I’ll bet you get
writer’s cramp wielding that quill -- how about jumping into modern times with
an official PoetLaureate® branded YouTube video?
The video would open with Donald Trump and Boris Johnson as
a punk rock group, The Dumb Blondes. Donald sings lead then Boris does a chorus
– the same lyrics but with extra syllables.
As The Dumb Blondes sing, we’d see flashing images of
thousands of trucks backed up at Dover. Looking down from above is a frowning
Jean Claude Juncker (smoking a cigarette, of course). Cut to Steve Bannon,
smiling but standing stiffly owing to his 17 layers of shirts.
After the initial vocals, The Dumb Blondes dance, with Boris
twisting and jumping as he hangs from a zip line and Donald zooming back and
forth in a golf cart. Behind them, a banner proclaims “Brexit- £350
a week to offshore banks!”
To symbolize the Irish Backstop, we could have a Hagrid
look-alike wearing green trunks and drinking Guinness. In passing, I should
mention that “The Irish Backstop” would be a great name to use on the
professional wrestling circuit. Or maybe for a rock band.
As you intone the opening stanzas, Carol Ann, the graphics
would disappear. Out of respect, you know.
At halftime in the ode, we could bring back the graphics.
How about the House of Commons slightly recast as the great hall at Hogwarts,
with groups of caped MPs hurling colorful, explosive spells at each other? James
Bond in there somewhere?
At one point the camera zooms in on Jeremy the Inscrutable,
standing between the groups and looking fierce, but limply tossing tepid spells
at both groups.
Just as your final verse ends, Carol Ann, the graphics show
an animated symbol of the pound sterling, barking and snarling as it gradually
backs into a corner. Then, of course, Boris appears. Because, doesn’t he
always? Still, you should get the last word. You could come back briefly and,
with a significant gaze toward The Boris, quote The Bard, “Better a witty fool
than a foolish wit.” (Feste, Twelfth Night, I.5.328)
