Playdate

David is having a playdate today
A visit from “best-friend” Barack
He’s come all the way from the US of A
A visit that’s codenamed “chalaque”.
Now that’s not a word that you hear every day
It’s Hindu for ‘crafty” or “fly”
If that were the code for when I came to play
My mummy would want to know why!
The codename for visiting princes or kings
Would be more respectful, no doubt.
Someone who’s meant to look after these things
Has clearly been fucking about.

Boys who are President don’t come alone,
They’ve nannies, in case you had wondered.
But it’s awfully large, Barack’s entourage,
Numbering fifteen hundred,
An army of fluffers and flunkeys galore,
Playing a myriad parts:
A man whose sole job is to open the door,
And someone to wave away farts.
Security’s high on Barack's agenda,
So the car he will use is a wonder:
If somebody so much as breathes on the fender
It converts to a nuclear bunker.

He’s really quite special, Dave’s overseas friend,
He’s not just your average chav,
He will stand up and tell you for hours on end
About “deeply shared values” they have.
Well-spoken and charming and good in a fight,
Few boys have a job like Obama’s
Also, because he’ll sleep over tonight,
He’s bought some new Batman pyjamas.