Scarpering

Scarpering,
From us, we
Megaphone diplomats,
They feline fattest
Play contract dominos,
Let bridges disrepair.
The ignorant,
Will always cross
Lines with glee, see,
For the pound note,
Is the driving factor
In days like these.

Running at
Right angles
To progressive
Thinking,
With aggressive,
Self-aggrandising
Positions,
Self-possessive
Profit-margin decisions,
To write reports,
To find the chinks in,
Our ideological
Armour.
But we’re not
Armed to teeth,
We’re armoured,
By numbers.
We chisel beneath
This cerebral slumber,
For all we ask
From those
Up there;
Not much,
But just
What’s
Fucking fair.
Not much,
The short straws
We clutch,
From this, raw
Communal air.
Not much,
We ask
But just,
What’s
Fucking
Fair.