Here’s a horrid sounding word

 

Of course you may not agree but Brexit is not a good word.

It sounds like an execution to me, the sharp blade of an axe. Off with his head. The Red Queen in Alice knew all about that; she would Brexit, till there was no one left to Brexit.

But it also sounds like  something you might buy in a packet, buy it from Screwfix  mix it up, like grout, feed it to rats.

Maybe it’s a new cereal, like Weetabix, but even more tasteless (sorry Weetabix) and with hard bits that you could break your teeth on. It does make me think of teeth, teeth like an iron trap that could snap round your ankle and that would be that.

That will be that.

Or teeth that shine under tv lights and smile and smile and murder while they smile. Brexit a new toothpaste, to paste over over all the untruths, and empty words.

Putin doesn’t smile, but he will if we Brexit and so will all those who want to chip a little bit more off the world, making it smaller and smaller until it is just a tiny rock in space with room for only a sign that reads:  ‘No Aliens here, thank you very much.’