Steve McAuliffe 

And now, as we all anticipated
The Eton/Oxford frat-boys
Pass through the historic heraldic gates
And line up to be ennobled by the figure-headed head of state
-She’ll raise the blade
As they bow their brylcreemed heads
For services rendered
Rendered, surrendered, put out to tender
Tenderised and privatised
A job well done, stealthily accomplished
And we, the hapless ingrates
Are commanded to wipe our noses and turn our backs
Wipe your nose and turn your back
Or we shall speed up the bleeding process
You gormless hack
You sack of accumulated realities we deigned to heap upon you
Shame on you
Callow serf with bended back
Return to the hessian sack we assigned for you
Go back
To the liberation of your weekly tithes and toys
For unbeknown to you, it is your struggles
And your neighbour’s struggles
That keep us predatory and alive
Alive-alive-ho my boys
For whilst you struggle with your back-tax
The fat-cats
Send pictures of their back-cracks
Via snap-chat
To the teenage daughter
Of some billionaire technocrat
And though we continually ennoble them
-These oh-so ignoble men-
Still you ghoulishly line the mall
Like lobotomised lab-rats
With your idiot smiles
And plastic Union Jack hats
Waving from behind your glass cages
At the fattest of all the fat-cats
Some of you even hold aloft your sacrificial children
No so much Porton Down then, more Stockholm syndrome
Lives lived vicariously it seems
Through the PR departments of your cold oppressors’ stage-managed dreams
Gleefully beamed and narrated by the fawning media correspondents
Themselves hopelessly co-dependant
On the endless pitiless stream of kings and queens
They are forced to report upon
It seems – at least for those with eyes still to see
Like some Japanese sci-fi film from the 1960’s
The giant octopus lashes out its awful tentacles
Whilst the fearful denizens of the great metropolis
All cower in their living-rooms
And a single-mother on meagre benefits
Serves up a paper plate of crinkle-cut chips
To her hungry child in some far-off bed-sit
Whilst the head of state merrily extracts 369 million quid
From a worn-out, clapped-out populace
And so few stricken minds it seems are even appalled
By the sight of the tears that run like blood down palace walls
For hidden beneath the mask of democracy –
Is the greatest serial killer in the whole of human history
And what of the heroes at Standing Rock
Standing firm around the clock
Against the mass-ranks of tanks and robo-cops
Who club and shoot the proud survivors of so many decimated nations
Enforcing their own warped version of neo-liberal liberation
To a world that doesn’t want them
A world that does not need them
A world that curses their corporate blood-lust
See, they would steal the sovereignty from all of us
If we merely accept their twisted visions on trust
For the chink-chink-chink
Of the links of the chain
Grow ever longer
The longer we accept their atrocities
I don’t know about you
But I refuse to accept their monstrosities any longer
In fact my conviction grows ever stronger
Liberty, fraternity, egality
Liberty, divinity and sovereignty
Liberty, fraternity, egality
-Liberty, divinity and sovereignty.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.