Plague Songs - The UroBoris / by Rich Hobbs

The snake coils round and starts devouring its own tail

    The scorpion arches up to lick its sting

The cassowary bends to peck at its own poisoned spur

    And in a yogic miracle Johnson kisses his own ring.

Covid swerves in a tight circle and starts over again

    Old No-Eyes frugs a circuit with his scythe

And Johnson fists himself with his own tousled turnip head

    Though none of us would ever guess the wanker was so lithe.

Everything comes round again, eternally recurring,

    In endless repetition, like a comet.

Johnson sticks his head up his loose arse biting at Brexit Deals

    Like a fat, thrashed dog returning every evening to its vomit.