by Jerome Betts

I’m Larry the Downing Street cat—
Hacks and snappers are glad about that.
When the people inside No. 10,
Like Theresa or two former men,
Fail to come up with gaffes to make news
I’m the feline-as-filler they use.

MPs enter and leave; some are bats
And some are vile back-stabbing rats.
Some have brains, some have not much aloft,
Some like Brexit, hard, medium, soft.
Politicians! They’re really not nice,
Yet I’ll stick to my post and catch mice.

A mere human can manage my tweets
While I wander the Westminster streets.
Never on an electoral list,
I’m neutral, a pure hedonist,
Though if Trump appeared, courting applause,
Then this pussy would vote—with its paws.