Volatile vol-au-vents
On bathroom tiled floors
Corners, and mourners outside coroner's doors
Closing time at funeral parlours
Where the dead are called
To rent out a coffin for the morning
By that afternoon
All death taxes will have been paid
But I thought I was a European corpse
One said
I answered
Brexit has effected us all my dear
Now at least you'll know your burial
In a church yard will be safe
From the common agricultural policy
And no more shall the other world be mapped
To four decimal places
And there will never again be a corner of a
Foreign field that is forever England
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