Royals Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Royals



And top of the morning to you, Sir!
How this turd, wearing the Queen's rags
could justify the audacity.The nerve.
After the Royal horse farted (it was her) ,
they ate those Hannover snags
something the Krauts would serve.
Told him to jump, using his Loden
as a parachute, hail Mary's? Two.

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