england corrupted

i live in hypocrisy city
corruption abroad is condemned
officials by pager remutter
“systems in Britain are clean”
as clean as a catholic bishop

it isn’t “go get yourself graft”
it’s letting the minions fuck–up
then leaving the errors unfixed
“ooh another few hundred’s now due
we’ll get to our ministers’ goal”

i was redundant with thousands
when maggie the mammoth was boss
my pay–off just happened to match
amounts i suddenly owed
“dear me what an error so sorry”

despite being workless and skint
despite all the money being mine
most all’s not returned not then
not weeks not months not years
fourteen years later not ever

the law says this isn’t a crime
the money’s mistakenly took
the corruption is passive acceptance
promoting a culture of error
malevolent incompetence

This poem was published in the Spring 2004 edition of Exile.





this archive is hosted by arts & ego
© 1978–2024 dylan harris   some rights reserved