You Just Know Someone Somewhere's Named Their Cat 'Brexit' 

How can I not tick the Brexit box
when the Leave campaign
is stationed at Lysander House,
Catbrain Lane, Bristol?
Less the Brex Pistol, bad European,
rather it's an omen
my vote's in the bag
(tho' a sack might be infelicitous
for co-addressed felis philosophicus
yowling 'Mogito, purrgo sum'
as over the bridge it's slung).

Apt, as Brexiting is 
a bit like drowning a cat:
one might live to regret it,
but it wouldn't be that hard to live with.