No electorate voted,

yet money changed hands,

grubby back street pilfer

and a bomb waiting to explode

on the streets, ticking down

in Rotten Borough England.

There is a misplaced May Queen

out of her depth as she runs around the poles,

kicking other children out of her way

or bribing their parents

to do as she hopes to say,

a small innocuous pay rise of a few percent,

whilst sorry nurse, there is a food bank for you

here in Rotten Borough England.

You can’t smoke in a public building,

that is fair enough, but for a council scrimping

two pounds, a whole building can be consumed

by fire and a dream goes up in smoke,

lives taken, lessons will be learned,

I get the chills when I think

Just how uneducated they already are,

Here in Rotten Borough England.

The May Queen, ugly in heart,

dips her hand in another’s pocket

once again, money found on

a magic money tree her dad once whispered,

don’t look too close at the flim-flam,

austerity’s a bitch, we all knew it was a con,

let the bankers hang, modern pirates, scum,

armed with Beaujolais , sick on the pavement

and pissing up against your back door,

never complain, soon disappear,

Tommy Rob, absolute rot, fascist ignorant sod,

just really who is to blame

here in Rotten Borough England.

 

Ian D. Hall 2017