it’s a time slip into 70s England

remember the powercuts, they were fun,

the madness of lunatics playing with fire sticks,

has the brainfog enveloped us?

has our purpose to fight the power eluded us?

has power’s influence dulled us into solitude?

if so why not join a fun union crew,

help them to help people just like you.

the rich may own many, but they number a few,

the workers unite, your message blew.

support your military people, wrong or right, they die for us, alright.

they cut the military, we give solidarity,

solidarity is empathy by another conceptuality,

(means the same thing to some.)

so if our soldiers are not on their side whose side are they on?

the side of the tory? (military fights redundancy.)

the side of the sometimes unemployed, mainly working tax credited? (it’s what the tory, not the people, but the tory wants you to be.)

the people are the ones that need heroes, not lying posh toe rags (old ball bags),

maybe the entitled need to remember the size of the poor is directly proportional to the size of their noses,

that nose that’s as big as their portfolios’es.

what else do we have back?

lots of strikes cuz the government’s crap,

and racism, so much fucking racism!

and a new one, transphobia, gender critical mass media!

all we had was Mr Wilberforce Clayborne Humphries, now imagine that!

but back to the racism, did we really need that!?

so how do us gen x’ers want the world to appear?

we want thatcher, regan, and bloody big hair?

what about millennials? when you’re old what d’you want?

you want toasted avocado on tap?

a joke, lacking nuance at that,

I’ll sit still.

the lights back on, at last!

now I can put the TV on and stop being haunted by the past.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

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