Daily Bread

Performative in puppet style

old frog face bends the knee,

a helicopter ride with flowers

shows the world what it wants to see.

A man of marmite flavour

British Bovril at its best

a bully who drinks Bitter ale

who’s soon to face the Clacton test.

A klaxon bell is sounding

on the streets where anger dwells

alarming news and fascist views

amidst the tears and angry yells.

A scapegoat duly needed

and a target for life’s pain

a simple chant, a raving rant

and a victim we can blame.

In poverty such lives are led

where hopes and dreams are dashed

in angry words on flags unfurled

and a longing for the past.

The foolish pride of empire

when Brittania ruled the waves

exporting white mans dominance

and subjugating slaves.

So let’s return to glory,

reassume our place on top

Let’s stop the boats, let Nigel float,

rejoice the gammon strop.

To those who call for vengeance

we understand your pain

but eye for eye and tooth for tooth

Is simply just insane.

Instead we need a breather

so let’s all take a breath

and know that in the end for sure

we face a certain death.

In the hours we have together

in the weeks and years ahead

let’s find a way to be ok

and share our daily bread.