Ode to the Real Remoaner

A poem dedicated to Jacob Rees-Mogg, loosely based, in structure, on Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte by Byron. That form has no consequence for the ideas in the poem, but has made it a little more pleasurable to write and might amuse poetry lovers. It’s the sort of thing that James Joyce might have scribbled off on a train journey from Paris to Trieste. He would probably have written it in Latin as well for his own amusement and still got it to rhyme!
Apologies to Brexiteers; this is not against necessarily about you. We have had to put up with the moans and groans of Europhobes since 1975, blaming all the ills of the UK on filthy foreigners and the EU – often conflating those two concepts deliberately. For me, they are the Remoaners. They didn’t want to be part of Europe; they wanted to Remain outside, denied the will of the majority that voted, wanted another referendum and continuously complained that the population were tricked into voting for something of which the parameters have changed. If it sounds familiar, that’s because it is!

Ode to the Real Remoaner

‘Tis done – the agreement has arrived

That wearisome wager you’ve lately lost

By the leading lady it was finally derived

All you, now, can do is count its cost

The promise you so mendaciously made

That we could have our cake and trade

Into the wildest winds was tossed

And those who thought you a rising star

Now rejoice to see you fallen so far


That woman on whose demise you planned

Has wrought asunder your wretched group

The letters which you thought in hand

Scattered in the House like alphabet soup

She is still there, where you are not

Your enemies happier with their lot

Your followers must themselves regroup

Inform those left far to the right

That No Deal is no longer in your sight!


For there are forces, fervent, that desire a voice

Who never believed your baleful story

In those woes you blamed on our European choice

They heard the moanings of a Tory

Who had never accepted a generation’s decision

Their European ideas, only worthy of derision

O, you obsessed with hearsay history

Now the game is up, they want their say

The dreaded dogs will have their day


Over forty years have passed and gone

Since the people chose with Europe to unite

You have never ceased that decision to bemoan

Every improvement with you has been a fight

You have moaned about a lack of democracy

Though convinced of our need for aristocracy

Any benefits that gain we might

Obscured by your desire to remain a loner

The coast has now come clear – you are the Real Remoaner