We call it QueueAnon, this wonderful
fountain of freedom hitherto unknown,
a snaking virtue of fellow patriots,
knees bending to the virtues of the throne.
Three days to bathe in our rightful place,
in worship of her glorious majesty
bowing our grateful head for the life of this deity
In the guiding light of our virtuous radiance
enduring bonds and soul mates have emerged.
Here’s loyal Prince Andrew
with his hand outstretched,
casting an eye for burdening servility
the queue rippling with expectation
as he glows in the beauty of innocence and youth,
all anointed with reverence for this example of royalty.
Here’s Mr Cameron, a meeting of minds,
and that was it,
him, an ex-prime minister, you a pig.
he held you close as you snorted God Save The King.
Life would never be the same again,
he saved your bacon as you relished his.
Look, there’s Phil and Holly at the head of the Queue,
a fine show of obsequious entitlement,
bold examples of an emerging enlightenment
by even the most humble TV show hosts
that they too must bear the standard
for this fine establishment.
And here’s Jeremy Clarkston and Katie Hopkins
waving a banner for Britannia’s values
casting an eye for brave inhabitants
of their outspoken realm, those
fearless ones who rally for freedom
of speech, who reach for domination
over petty rules and regulations.
May our future be safe in the hands of
God and the King,
let’s raise a goblet of glory to his
succession, bend low and kiss his ring.
