what if doormats were suddenly sentient?
what if elephants nested in trees?
what if your gran was a Toblerone?
what if locomotives had knees?
what if Tuesday was really a Welsh cake?
what if the Atlantic were slices of toast?
what if the King were a Dalek?
what if the M42 were a ghost?
what if snakes could be worn as neckties?
what if pasta was made out of lead?
what if childbirth was just like a train strike?
what if you had feet on the top of your head?
what if cheese were an alien life form?
what if children were made out of hay?
what if milkshakes were deadly as bullets?
what if we had something worthwhile to say?
© Steve Pottinger 5th June 2024
written one day after The Clacton Milkshake Incident, where the mouthpiece of far-right nonsense, Herr Farage, was successfully coated in banana milkshake by a member of the public. Cue media figures and pundits screeching about violence. (What if it had been a GUN??!!) Hence, this poem.