Sharpen Up

Sharpened by the state.
They are axe that cuts,
Forged by forgers,
Who ain't,
The sharpest
Tool in the box.
What kind of tool shall we be?
Some, are very happy,
(insert object of ire),
And very good,
At
Just
Being
Tools.

Are we knives
Sharpened by society?
For kids without lives,
For stabbing
Kids without lives?

Are we broad swords?
Sharpened by others,
For slaying others abroad?

We grind and strop
For what sense?
To sharpen points on this
Barbed wire fence?

Are we board-room panel saws
For which there is no point?
Sipping screwdrivers down
Their crow bar joint?
That's the private equity dream.
Ours, it would seem,
Is to be aware,
Make aware,
And fight like mad
For what is fair.

We’re sharpened over time.
We're not devised
To be anti-this or that or
Anti-bleedin'-clockwise.
We are all chisels, see,
Sharpened on many sides.
Sharp of point and brain,
To carve our way,
Practically, beautifully,
With, or ‘gainst the grain.

So stay sharp now.
Noses to the grind-stone.

And we'll never
Let the bastards
Grind
Us
Down.

As performed with Poets on the Picket Line, 11th February 2017, in support of Hackney Picturehouse workers' strike for a living wage.