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Who was a terrific wankerer
Till he sowed his wild oats
With the help of a goat
But he didn't even stop to thankera.Forgive me for getting pedantic here – actually, don't, this is important, and it needs to be said. Boris Johnson's award-winning entry is not a good limerick. It's a terrible limerick; a shitty, half-baked non-effort, something that would be an embarrassment if it had been written by an eight-year-old child, something which would make me suspect foul play if that child had used it to win a £10 book voucher. Critics are, predictably, focusing on the fact that "wankerer" is not a word, and that "oats" does not entirely rhyme with "goat". This is true: "wankerer" is not a word, "oats" does not rhyme with "goat". But that's not why it's a bad poem. Good poets have invented new words throughout history, often for the sole purpose of making a rhyme; when that proves impossible they've been happy to lob a misshapen half-rhyme at the reader. It doesn't matter. Forget what the words mean; just try reading out the first two lines to yourself. They simply don't work.The first line is OK, perfectly serviceable; the second is a hideous, violent mess, a hastily cobbled scrapheap of syllables arranged without any attention whatsoever to the rhythms of English speech. It's not really clear where the limerick's ordinarily anapaestic stresses should fall: the second foot, "terrific", doesn't easily admit any, and placing it in the middle, like you usually would, makes the whole line feel lopsided, opening up an awkward metrical gap before the last word. And then in the final line the words all come out at once, with no pattern whatsoever; it's as if Boris is just vomiting a sticky torrent of words directly into your face. Boris Johnson tries to present himself as a cultivated man of the arts, a fleshy repository of all that is good in the Western tradition. It's a lie. He can't even write a decent dirty limerick. The man is a fraud.
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He never learned shit about scansion
Instead – this is true –
He fucked half the zoo
For the animal kingdom's expansion.While pursuing his studies at Eton
Young Boris was quite often beaten
Though his conscience would burn
He would beat off in turn
With a ballgag, a bra, and a leash on.Try it yourself. The winner gets nothing.@sam_krissMore from VICE:A Tribute to the Impossibly Uncomfortable Banter of 'This Week'What Will London Look Like When the Super Rich Have Gone?Is Britain Ruled By a Secret Pig-Fucking Cabal?