The Eureka lemons were scattered on the floor
Dotting the hardwood like a painting by Seurat
And the dancers of Degas were nowhere to be found

But here at 10 Downing St.
Churchill’s predecessor knew what had to be done
He scurried about looking for the key to his mother’s boudoir

Alas! He cried
And with the speed of Yeager
He ascended the stairs, grazing the baluster

But at the top of the steps who awaited him?
The forbidden fruit, with leaves of the cross
The passion itself

And he burped as a result of the several White Russians
He drank with The Dude
And made his way to the place where Hooverball was being played

Because it is a drunk person’s game