But Hunt, to be blunt
Is a Freudian slip
Twixt thought and lip
With his pinch-me-am-I-dreaming
Beaming, champing at the bit
For the most expensive hump
In the Brexit bed of tricks
His wobble-head pumped
With arousal-heavy heart
For the Tory race to desiccate
Our sensitive parts
As the tub-thumpers, who
Would pimp and screw us too,
View Johnson as a more entertaining tart
