Daily Mail Brit by Clive Oseman

He is a Daily Mail Brit.
No empathy, no pity, no sympathy,
just a belief that the symphony of life
is played around his needs,
that every edifice was built to feed his prejudice
and the tyranny he breathes.

Desperate, drowning refugees
should not be our concern,
their disparate lives so distant
as to be irrelevant. Forget benevolence
They’re coming here to beg, not earn.
Our benefits system- The envy of the world.

He is a Daily Mail Brit,
who doesn’t give a shit, just shrugs
that the title courted Hitler
and his band of Nazi thugs-
and hasn’t changed one bit.

He’s worked hard all his life,
has two children and a wife.
His house is worth a mint-
any hint of scroungers moving in
would bring the value down,
so let them drown.
When they arrive they get the best, rent free
it’s often there for all to see
all over pages one to three.

“Rule Britannia
Don’t let the scroungers in
we didn’t win the war
to be over-run by them!”

Daily Mail Brit, I understand you well.
I was born of one- you just can’t tell.
A heartless, misogynistic git
who never heard of clemency
believed in white supremacy,
and wanted me the same.

I’m proud of how I felt that shame
and still shudder that I share his name
proud of how I can imagine
my beautiful, mixed race daughter
set him spinning in his grave
and how, in time, we will win the day.

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