Beware the bulldog mindset

When Buster Bulldog and his bestbitch got married,

she wore a red, white and blue dress with a pussybow,

he buff breeches and his new Union Flag waistcoat.

Big, burly, broad-shouldered bulldog bouncers

kept undesirables at bay while a brass band played

Land of Bulldog Glory, of which patriot squads

growled the words; bullbitch celebrities bellowed

Woe betide lesser breeds wanting to get in;

So long, ding dong, so long, you just don’t belong,

Misfit, you’re it, misfit, your face don’t fit.

Only bulldogs were welcome; other dogs, such as

beagles and boxers, were banned, and birds too,

geese, chickens, owls. Most of all, they abhorred

birds of multicultural mien and cosmopolitan creed

that grew up on Romanian grain or Bulgar wheat

and used banknotes with bridges on to settle

their board and lodging bills, bartering bread,

beans, beetroot and bacon in an alien jabber

no True Blue Bulldog could make tail or head of.

The bulldogs’ message for all these was the same;

by Jingo we’ll hammer you where it hurts,

if you’ve got foreign fur we’ll make it fly, grab you

by the goolies and give you a good gouging,

bite your balls off and braise them for breakfast,

and if you’ve got fancy feathers we’ll pluck out

your parasite plumage and send you packing,

back where you came from to earn a living.

So Betsy the bitchbride and her maids in blue

Burberry dresses sported bright lapel buttons

or blouse badges that read Budgies go home!

goading the groomdogs as they rose one by one

on their hind legs to bark Ancient Jerusalem

and wolf bleeding beef steaks and Brussels paté

until it was time for the happy couple to head off

to their honeymoon hotel in Exeter or elsewhere,

when they smashed open a pink plastic piggybank

and piled on the table pyramids of pound coins

higher than St Paul’s Cathedral, packed them in purses,

and presented them to the couple to spend or to keep

as they pleased, the wedding car creaming the lawns

where stone cold Britannia in rags wept and shivered

freezing behind great gates like those of Gibraltar.

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This post was written by John Gohorry