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Kenn Rushworth Jan 2017
Drunk on depression
Tired tabernacles
Seeking solemnity
Breathing through tubes
Fed at night
In the cage of the borough
Lost leaders
On ******* soliloquies
Driving on the right
Speaking in tongues
Crashing through the wall
Of absolute certainty
In doubt and mascara
Butchered red
Meat cleaver hands
Post-manifesto
Bargaining for the soul
Carcinogenic television
Cacophonous libraries
Care giver corridors
Closed

Open to infection
Untreated city
Treaty of wherever
196 flags
Good for Kerosene
Live on paper
Minimum wage
Retirement age
DWP death sentence
Closed border
Cancer of the bone
Mouth to mouth
Of the drinking classes
Flecks of ****
On the **** of distraction
Pay gap mentality
On dead meat and banter
Liposuction of conscience
Free market *** attack
Fit to print
Fine to hate
For now
Life's a Beach Sep 2015
Isn't cured by
Quality of Countries' cash.

2380
The DWP flick off the blood
2380 bodies in coffins
Some were never loved
And all because of debt
We'll never see
debt we'll never shake

Every political debate will now
stand on the bones of the disabled.

And it will never be enough
Mankind turned to dust in search
Of digital pennies, in the rust
of all empathy.

2380 deemed fit for work

Apparently not.
Does this Christmas feel real?
do you want to deck the halls
or deck the local copper?

is it merry gentlemen
or doped up mental men?

and is Santa just a ******?

Will the saviour save me from
the DWP?

A friend sends me a Christmas card
a picture on it of a crib,
some yard in Bethlehem
with some very clever men stood by
I don't know why he sent it me
perhaps he thought I'd like it.


But it's not like it used to be
would you agree?
well
apart from the nuts and
there's plenty of them
merry mental gentlemen
about.

No snow
just pretence and
'a good deal hence'
from the days of
Wenceslas.

— The End —