Lie back and think of England; it’s going down too,
under the weight of visceral addiction, the vice of realism.
Antagonist activists; wolves in sheep’s loathing
in the generation defined by degradation.

Sparks fly between taut tensions;
as modern maladies devour rationality.
Why think when you can react
why take the boot off your neck
when you can bruise the most convenient minority.

Death threats, the new love letter
As silence falls on the din of dim culture
where scapegoats are led to slaughter.

We’re too bankrupt to be cheap
too weak to stand for what we stand for
in the Brexit towns punching down.