Dr SeUssKIP Says – I Do Not Like Nigel Farage!

I do not like him on a train,
Or on a bus, or an aeroplane,
Or in a car, or on a barge
I do not like Nigel Farage.

I do not like his hair or eyes
I do not like his shape or size
I do not like his pints or fags
The points he makes, his finger wags
His supporters, or his entourage
And I do not like Nigel Farage.

I do not like him in debates, or in the pub
Or with his mates
For him, my glass, I’ll never charge
As I do not like him,
That Farage.

I do not like his ruse, his mission
To schmooze his way to a Coalition
I do not like his crude ambition
I do not like the guy’s skewed vision
I don’t like his yellow and purple rosettes
Or the bellowing manifestos he sets
Like the worst excesses of the British Raj
Three guesses who I don’t like?
Yup, Farage.

He may well be an Em Ee Pee,
But he sure does not represent me
I do not like him when he talks
Or smiles, or sits, or stands or walks
I do not like his jokey bantz,
I do not like his blokey rants
I would not, could not, watch him dance
And I would not like him in his pants
I do not want the things he wants
I’ve never liked him, not even once
So, just to be clear, it’s here
Writ large:
I DO NOT LIKE NIGEL FARAGE!

To UKIP – Boo!,
No Hip Hoorays
It just won’t do, the things he says
I do not like him on TV
His comments about HIV
On immigration, he will always be
Derogatory, Inflammatory
Damnatory, Incendiary
If he grew a beard, I’m sure we’d see,
A new style called, ‘The ‘Scapegoatee’.
So I’d rather have the SNP
Or The Greens
Or Plaid Cymru
Or Labour, though it somewhat bugs
To think about their ugly mugs
Which were like some kinda bad taste homage
To, (I don’t like him)
Nige (Farage).

For his scare-mongering, I don’t care
Or, as the French say –
Au Contraire
I do not like his Xenophobia
Or his, ‘There’s too many coming over here’
I don’t like him on land, or sea
I don’t like him in my country
In Africa, Spain or Poland, or,
In Essex, Kent, or at my door
I would not like him in a Holiday Inn
Or a Travelodge, or a Wheelie-Bin
At the Taj Mahal, or up The Shard
To think of any situation that I’d like him in,
Would be quite hard.

I do not like his photograph
With the fake Mohican, don’t make me laugh
And I would not like his portrait, nor
A statue of him. And what’s more,
If Matisse had done him, as a stunning collage
I would still not like Nigel Farage

I do not like him in the sun
I do not like him in the rain
I do not like what’s in his heart
I do not like what’s in his brain
I would not like him as my next of kin
A distant relation or identical twin
I do not like him here or there,
I do not like him anywhere.
I wouldn’t have liked him in days of yore
And I won’t like him for evermore
If that’s a crime,
Then arrest me, Sarge
‘Cause I’ll never like
Nigel Farage

I do not, can not, like the man
And so, for that fact,
Glad, I am.