You wear your shackles well
Your prosperity like cheap perfume
The difference is hard to smell
For a darkened shit-fed mushroom

It’s a fairground three card trick
And the money card is in the middle
But you’ve fallen for Tory shtick
Like accepting the “truth” of a riddle

We’re falling at a different speed
But we’re all falling to pray at their feet
Like wounds that refuse to bleed
They delude you with high flung deceit

You feel like a peacock in plume
But you’re carrion beneath circling skies
A morsel wearing cheap perfume
Neo-chattel marching to your demise.


Funereal Scene

Here lies the sorry end
of the aged nation-state
shot like a tethered dog
to appease the feted “great”,
and “good” of the watching
money-honey men
determined to return
the wretched to their pen.
they, the moneyed few,
defend their callous cull
while they, the huddled masses
strive to survive the lull
This is what we are now
we’re done with caring who
or why the people struggle.
the nation-state is through.
get on, you little people,
the fodder must be flumed
the gods must see oblation
the gift must be consumed

The Profit Song

Like a soiled and sullied uncrowned king
The God of profit taints everything.
As a wasted Eden descends to ire
And man’s great promise is cast to fire.

Like the famine child with extant stare,
The feeble gaze of man’s despair,
As progress blooms with perfidious ease
Trailing its wake, the progress disease.

Where are we heading if we leave behind
The remnant tail of all mankind?
And how will we mark the day we arrive
With the wealthy living while the rest survive?

A highway adorned with lanes of gold,
The dystopian journey of the privileged fold.
To the gated Utopia that readies itself
For progress people with pillaged wealth.

No heaven resembles this hellish design,
No Gods within this vulgar shrine,
But contrived division of the common race.
Accept your lot, and know your place.

Made in Britain

she lives her lows
as stains on the soul
her lonely gains
for lying with unknown
living without hunger
so she fakes wild,
thinks of the child
she’s left at home.

without any love,
but approximation of
she lays kisses
on unacquainted lips.
to live tomorrow,
she salves her sorrow
for hope defiled,
thinks of the child
she’s left at home.

absent respect
expectations of sex
drives her fall.
life is right here
the necessity zoo
where you do what you do
even coming undone
keeps her smile wide,
thinking of the child
she’s left at home.

Once Upon a Politician

We live our lives within versions of the truth
Smoking their bespoke definitions of a proof
Proudly living life like a sad, cuckolded stray
Supplicant to manipulative makers of the day

Our paths are planned with an ignorant smile
As we’re turned and twisted like a radio dial
Reaching our destination in bewildered haze
Like prizes to the show, or cattle to the graze

Where were you in the near death of equality
mercilessly slain by the “in it together” allegory
obfuscating the bullshit of their ordinary deceit
inequality of the masses and the bloated elite

Class War

Do you think you’re safe
From the welfare war
Cloistered within your indignance wet dream
Cheering the toy soldiers
Strip searching the poor
Looking for the last of their self-esteem
Do you sneer at the scroungers
Parasites on society
Are you revelling in the depth of their fall
Cheering the toy soldiers
Their moneyed piety
Bringing the proud-upright down to a crawl
Pray fate doesn’t soon turn
To tearing you down
To a place at the new faux-welfare table
There’s no safety there now
That bird has flown
Welcome to your own scrounger label

Consensual Plutocracy

It means so little to moneyville denizens
Tapping their toes to their tunes
Treating society like their colouring book
Laughing at the poverty cartoons

They know, dignity decays to poverty squared
It’s their protection in the round
Dependence begotten within the sinking holes
While they hold their higher ground

So they build their shrines to a servile society
Upon the toil of the obeisant poor
Yet on, and on, the social fodder subscribes
To their master and slave metaphor