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The briars dripped with blood & gore

But briars did not hurt enough

The human skin had grown too tough

So wire fences barbed will score.

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We just ignore the other side.

If still they claim a crust of bread

We’ll break or bomb or bullet dead

And throw them off our pretty ride. 

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Our pretty ride of glass and steal

Should not be fouled by poorer folk

The words can’t count when poor folk spoke

So we’ll just love our current deal.

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There’s no appeal for fairer day

No one will blame for stopping here

Our reptile brain must think it queer

To let them in to work and play.

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There’s nought to say but: “It’s complex.”

Lean back & watch some more TV

To practice rich hypocrisy  

To face cruel facts would only vex. 

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A lexicon devised to cleave: 

“Illegals” or a “lesser race”

Or seek a different path to grace

Not us?  No need to care or grieve.

The weave we weave is just for us

Perhaps that “US” should be just me

And those who think & look like me

The rest can’t ride on my fine bus.

And when at last the broken bus

There’s no-one left to fix or care

The greed we taught is empty air

That love denied was meant for us.

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Siren Song

Dance of Billions

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Echoes of your Actions

The Crows and Me

Hot Dog

The Word for War


Three Blind Mice

Stoned Soup

The Orange Man

Absolute is not just a Vodka

Such a teeny tiny man