by now you should have figured:
it's easier to satirise an everyday British
civilian with a radio,
than it is satirising a British politician
with a sense of rhetoric and
no Poker skills; instead viably
all cleavage with piquant punctuation,
zesty with a protruding ah...
an opera in glutton minor -
(never the colon preceding italicised
re-)
            meine land, meine land,
           die land alle meine land
           die land von Strauß -
           die land von fett walküre -
           gott ist tot: diät ist boren.
it is easier to it's easier to satirise an everyday
British  civilian with a radio,
than it is satirising a British politician
with anything than politics - as assured
with deciphering the enigma
or the British relations musicology speaking
relating to the continent with that
one favoured spy / messiah: Hændel - i.e.
the one admirer of Liszt that turned to terror tactics
and broke the pianist fingers in hope of the pianist
never wedging a Cuban cigar  between middle and index;
love is such an oddity, it can make jealous men
love by hating into a choking joke.