Who cares? Brexit Brokeshit.
Brexit Brokeshit, my collection of 37 poems and prose across 70 pages, now has a new look. Much like the change in the Prime Minister of the UK, the cover of Brexit Brokeshit is different, but the content is the same as the previous one. Another similarity lies in the fact that the change was unelected: this was a mandatory change needed to ensure the title matched the description. Nevertheless, here is a look at the new cover, and let’s hope it doesn’t get spaffed up the wall!
(Ps – I didn’t actually write any of this blurb, it was written by my own personal Dominic Cummings).
Poem on page 6 of Brexit Brokeshit by Joseph Robert
First published in Pyrokinection, May 2013.
Billion Euro Cheeseburger
Billion Euro Cheeseburger, it’s coming soon,
whether through hyperinflation, hypergourmandation, avant-
garde arty stunting, or tax hole ‘sploitation, it is coming,
Billion Euro Cheeseburger,
laugh, don’t laugh, eyebrow arch, eyeball roll, same diff.:
a Billion Euro Cheeseburger’ll be served up, just the same,
‘But will you swallow it?’ will be the question claimed via
MEdia to be on everybody’s oft-spoken-for, static lips.
Billion Euro Cheeseburger, grab her by the buns and list off
every currency name securely deposited in your head, past
present, real and made up, blink and think of their symbols,
cos I can’t be bothered to do it for you anymore for I fear,
Billion Euro Cheeseburger, Happiness Hand Grenades and things
that make as much out of little sense as Grexit, stage left.
Buy a print copy of Brexit Brokeshit on Lulu.
Download the Brexit Brokeshit FREE Pdf Ebook.
Brexit Brokeshit is now available to read online as a free PDF Ebook, free as an unicorn galloping across sunlit uplands.
Available today from Lulu Publishing is Brexit Brokeshit: my collection of poetry and prose on the subject of Brexit, its causes, personalities and conflicts. A righteous statement on the virtues of political impotence, “I’m not racist but…”, political figures and, oh, to hell with all of it…
Joseph Robert detests poems about orchards and racists, not poems about racists, but actual racists. He is 190 centimetres tall, is a firm believer that the Guinness in Dublin is the best due to the rats in the vats, and drinks Bushmills whisky. He likes visiting orchards when the fruit is ripe.