It is reported that Jeremy Corbyn has closed his Facebook account, prompting speculation that he has something to hide.

Now Facebook’s had some dreadful press,
And really seems in great distress,
As people on the planet see,
It really cannot trusted be.

The cry goes out, “Close your account!”
For what they do is tantamount,
To stealing info about you,
Then give it someone else to view.

When I say ‘give’ I’m being kind,
’Cos if we look we’re sure to find,
Our data’s not given at all,
But sold for money overall.

But back to closing your account,
You might expect this would amount,
To clicking on a button which,
Would let you go without a hitch.

But not so fast, no button there,
It’s hard to find one anywhere;
And even if you stare all day,
There seems to be no easy way,
That you can exit this platform,
Which for some has become the norm.

But one man’s managed it, it seems,
Promoting him in my esteem;
But then one starts to wonder why,
And what dark purpose might belie,
His reason for the effort he,
Has made so neither you nor me,
Can check up further on his past,
And he can clean the slate at last.

But doubtless what was there is known,
So someone with a mobile phone,
Will find out what he wants to hide,
And spread it out there far and wide.

So watch this space for more to read,
And things expressed in word and deed;
Then, notwithstanding use of shade,
New revelations might be made.



In the aftermath of the general election it is reported that Jeremy Corbyn has a plan to increase the minimum wage for sixteen to eighteen year olds to £10 per hour.

So Corbyn very nearly won,
Because young voters thought the sun,
As I’ll now try to rhyme and parse,
Shone all the time out of his arse.

The reason really is quite clear,
For he had given them a steer,
That uni fees would all be scrapped,
At which young people were all rapt.

With other things on offer too,
Made to the many, not the few,
So many people would cash in,
That they would likely vote for him.

But since he lost he’s got a plan,
That every teenage boy or man,
Should have their hourly rate increased,
To ten pounds, doubling it at least.

“So vote for me! You’ll be quids in.
All this is true, it isn’t spin,
And money for this higher rate,
Will be paid by the ones we hate;
The ones you always ought to boo –
That’s not the many but the few!”

So Corbyn in his power grab,
Makes out it will be really fab,
With everybody due a treat,
Once he’s installed in Downing Street.

The upshot, though, is that these yobs,
Will all be priced out of their jobs,
And Corbyn’s plan will be complete,
When there are riots in the street.

So let your watchword be ‘Take care’,
When you’re assessing Corbyn there,
It’s better you’ve a job than not,
So kick him out – he’s just a Trot!



It is reported that the Labour Party’s manifesto for the general election has been leaked to the Press. Here are some of the highlights.

The cat’s no longer in the bag,
For someone’s leaked the Labour rag,
That is their manifesto which,
Is causing folk to moan and bitch.

It’s been designed to please the crowd,
And writers are immensely proud,
Of all the principles within,
Together with a bit of spin.

So let us have a little look,
At what’s included in this book.

The first is tax, rich but not poor,
Will be asked to pay that bit more,
But most are likely to decline,
And have another glass of wine.

Then workers’ rights and workers’ pay,
The unions want a real say,
Insisting firms that day to day,
Supply the Government must pay,
Their boss a max of twenty times,
The lowest paid in pounds or dimes.

Defence contractors should watch out,
Because this rule they will all flout,
And should the Government insist,
And get their knickers in a twist,
They will find that they can’t obtain,
The weapons even just to train,
Then should we see the Russian Bear,
There won’t be many weapons there.

Perhaps that is not the intent,
But if it’s something else that’s meant,
Then they should make it very plain,
So we won’t have to ask again.

Now onto rail and also bus,
Which can cause such an awful fuss,
And everybody’s heard before,
That people do sit on the floor!

The answer really is quite plain,
It’s public ownership again,
That is what’s needed without doubt,
To sort our transport system out.

And while we’re getting all these gains,
We will scrap all those one-man trains,
Which Southern Rail thought were so good,
And would deploy them if they could.

So we will make your travel fun,
In snow and rain or even sun,
And we will promise that you might,
On most weekdays get home at night.

And finally we come to pubs,
Which also includes social clubs,
Although there once were lots and lots,
They’re closing at a rate of knots.

This is so bad it just won’t do,
Or we’ll be left with far too few,
So we will save the Merry Monk,
Then everyone can still get drunk!

So that is it just vote for me,
So these improvements you will see,
And then you’ll all know where you are –
It’s back in the USSR!

With apologies to The Beatles.