Snatcher Thatcher
like Dennis and Gnasher
belong to more comic-book times.
No friend of the poet
though she didn’t know it
she gave us a demon for rhymes.
The banker’s beano
that sadly we know
was entirely her fault it seems
not that our consuming
our self-righteous fuming
and collusive greed
had anything to do with it.
From no such thing – to big society
we’re full of anxiety
left to pick up the pieces
put them in the right bin
the privatised council bin
so pardon my ignorance
my geriatric brain dance
isn’t it why we elect a government?
I am not a silent poet 