Boris Johnson pens anti-depression poem: The Mayor of London’s ode about solving life’s problems
The capital’s Mayor tries his hand at poetry
The cure for depression? Boris Johnson says look no further than poetry.
The Mayor of London has penned a poem, listing the many negative situations that can be solved by the cathartic writing of poetry – whether medical issues to being usurped to political power by your brother (he’s looking at you David Miliband).
“When you've been stopped from leading Labour/
By your brother’s bad behaviour/
Read some Wilfred Scawen Blunt/
And forget the little c**t.”
Johnson completed the piece for his friend, journalist Rachel Kelly, at the launch of her memoir Black Rainbow – which focuses on how poetry helped rid her depression. The pair met through Kelly’s husband, Sebastian Grigg, when they were both part of the Bullingdon Club.
His literary gem also mentions the tube strikes, that caused chaos in London last week:
“When the RMT is out/
And your tube is up the spout/
And your bus is overheating/
And you've missed a crucial meeting/
Read a poem.”
While he may not be at Keats level just yet, Johnson can at least make sentences rhyme. Maybe if the next mayoral elections don’t work out, he could give Andrew Motion a run for his money. Maybe.
Extracted verses from Boris Johnson’s new poem:
“The book we hail tonight/
— and by gum the girl can write/
Has a very simple thesis/
If you’re life has gone to pieces/
Read a poem/
When no doctor and no nurse/
Can seem to stop you feeling worse/
And you're railing at the failings/
Of the whole damn universe/
Read a poem/
When the RMT is out/
And your tube is up the spout/
And your bus is overheating/
And you’ve missed a crucial meeting/
Read a poem/
When you've been stopped from/
leading Labour/
By your brother’s bad behaviour/
Read some Wilfred Scawen Blunt/
And forget the little c**t/
If you've been driving much too fast/
And Mrs Huhne has grassed/
Don’t get cross at Mrs Huhne/
Try some Owen or Sassoon/
Read a poem/
When the awful moment comes/
To buy presents for your chums/
And you feel the rising panic/
Like the captain of Titanic/
Give them Keats and give them Shelley."
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