Red robins would be asking you:
What would Jeremy Corbyn do?
Peacocks always posting selfies;
Magpies’ jokes are someone else’s.
Ducks and geese go on and on
About what their prodigal brood has done.
A pheasant moans about bad drivers,
A blackbird says his noisy neighbours
Always wake him up at dawn
(At least he gets to catch the worm).
The pigeons in Trafalgar Square
Brag about their followers.
Amidst this chattering of fowls,
The only sense is from the owls.
The whole covfefe’s a squawking throng,
From hashtag tits to muted swan.
But there’s no such thing as real bad news –
It’s lucky if they crap on you.