Rabble rousers and racists,
ugly in their utterances,
superior in their suppositions,
they are everywhere. Some
wear uniforms, some kitten heels; many
are in disguise and pass. Others
are flagrant and defy decency,
revelling in the shockwaves
that ripple as they storm through
crowds of Saturday shoppers.
Who are they, the puppeteers?
Murdoch, global corporations,
bankers and our ruling class – Teflon
Tories or something even worse?
They fuel have-not hatred,
‘I blame you’,
turn despair to demonic diatribes,
detestation of difference. Divide
and rule, the ancient way.
These trenchant desperados
on our streets, they’d do well to learn,
they’ll fall with the same frayed frailty
as the rest of us, expended and cast out at will
by the Teflon Tories, when it suits the suits.
The Teflon Tories, toss off those tricky
rich and powerful monstrosities with
marble-soled boots that crush
and crack plebeian bones to smithereens
beneath their superior stations, elevated
and enshrined in statuary – erected
in populous, infernal error –
until the day the People stir as one.