Things must be really bad for “rising star” Chris Bryant. The Labour wannabe attack dog has reverted to writing cringing anti-coalition poetry…
But now the champagne flutes are passed their time -
And late-night, lightweight, internecine strife.
The autumn parliamentary term commences
With all eyes fixed on Osborne’s pending knife.
Statistics, figures, numbers stride the land,
Brought forth by each to stay the other’s hand.
Some worship at the shrine of deficit reduction,
They see a chance to slash the state, scot-free,
They eulogise the Big Society
But in their hearts they make a grand deduction:
Let Alexander, Clegg and Cable take the rap.
There is more, much more here. Though Bryant might not even make it to the Shad Cab, Guido wouldn’t recommend he gives up the day job…