Owen, are you such a berk

To think such metaphors still work

When you yourself are from the murk?


You’ve not travelled very far

And no-one knows quite who you are:

You’re the he inside a haar.


No-one thinks you’re super-duper,

When you occupy a stupor,

When you are a pure pea-souper.


Sneezing at you, I have asthma.

Really, you need brain and plasma

To help you out of your miasma.


When you read yourself in papers,

Your words as sharp as gherkins, capers,

Frankly you remain the vapours.


Don’t you ever wonder why

You’re lost inside a cloudy sky,

As solid as some nebulae?


Don’t you think it’s slightly crazy

To talk with all the power of Jay-Z

When you yourself are very hazy?


Are you so possessed of purity

Or are you filled with immaturity

To witter on about obscurity?


I know you are a humble cog

A poor and pocket demagogue,

But less of fret when you’re a fog.


Click here for an Independent article


September 1 2016

Labour Party leadership challenger Owen Smith accused Jeremy Corbyn of leaving the party “teetering on the brink of obscurity”.


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