Pigs - billions of pigs.
A wretched sunburnt tide
toppling Cleethorpes, Tring,
Welwyn Garden City,
and the gentlefolk of Clevedon.
Piqued rustics impale hogs on pitchforks:
piss-all use! One stab
and the tines stick, then you're stuck
wielding a sort of giant bacon Mjölnir.
The plebs retreat to castles,
roll up the drawbridges,
and watch, helpless,
as the pigs move into Westminster,
Fleet Street, start tagging themselves on Facebook,
ordering Thai online.
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