these words are dedicated to the six children who will die in the time it takes to read them in the so-called “third-world” (due to the practices of Powdered Baby Milk manufacturers)  



Drip, drip, drip says the stand-pipe

in the shanty town

as the young mothers gather round

plastic containers on the ground

listening to the drip, drip, drip

of life ebbing away



the riverbeds have all dried up

the wells are mine-shafts to the past

the irrigation channels of their *******

are polluted now by the Cuckoo’s Nest



the powdered-milk…the dust-bowl fields

the quotas met……the land reveals

the hand that rocks this cradle

is the one who lays the table

with “third-world” debt their able

to rob  and disable



as the dehydrated bodies blow away like ashes

the multi-national fascists……..

with vampire banks decashes

the breast-milk of the masses

with a ****** drip, drip, drip



from the ******* of the mothers

the corporations smother….

the babies in their sleep

the cuckoo comes as a thief

with a free sample and a brief

case full of deceit…………



may I make a suggestion?

“ASK SOME QUESTIONS”



As you eat your chocolate

and drink your coffee

and smear ice-cream on your lovers body

and NESTLE down to the land of noddy

to dream of countless trucks and lorries

ferrying the cow-juice and the slurry

burning the forests in such a hurry



more cattle and cash and burn and $lash

leaves a gaping ****

in the dried-up flesh of Mother Earth

and 4000 babies every year

yes 4000 babies every year

return to the DUST….

BOWL…………..BREAKFAST BOWL

CEREAL BOWL……….SERIAL CRIME

CORN and MILK spells CORPORATE CRIME

dished up for your children’s bellies

in front of telly-tubby tellies



Chocolate bars and candy treats

robbed from the swollen teats

of mutated udders

whilst the cow’s baby brothers

are herded into crates

and served on rich men’s plates

the mothers stand and wait

and listen to the rate

of the DRIP

DRIP

DRIP

of spilled milk down the drain

the governments explain

and bury their shame

under mountains of grain

and excess champagne



and if you BEG

you get Easter eggs instead

served up by the “head”

whose saviour bled

with a steady DRIP

DRIP

DRIP



and I scream and jelly

and biscuits and cakes

make bovine mistakes

and cheesy diseases

from the milk that turns sour

reminds us every hour

of this CATTLE CULTURE HERESY

of babies dying constantly

with a DRIP

DRIP

DRIP