The dangerous baby

As soon as he was born
They put him in handcuffs
He was a dangerous, a dangerous baby

They took him down for his mugshot call
He smiled and giggled at them one and all
The dangerous, dangerous baby

He didn’t mind giving his fingerprints
They covered over the whole cell wall
He was a dangerous, a dangerous baby

His DNA profile came dribbling easy
It made the staff sergeant feel very queasy
Of the dangerous, the dangerous baby

They took him into the interview room
Where he would wobble about and fall
his mother didn’t understand him at all
So they tried to placate him with a bouncy ball
The guards went and lost him when he began to crawl
He was a dangerous, a dangerous baby

The baby had no chance at all
In and out of the prison door
He was the dangerous, dangerous baby

Hamster

When you’re spinning round
Just spinning round
In your wheel
The earth and the sky
Become one grey blur

When you’re spinning around
In your treadmill
You have no time
To stop and look

You work so, so hard
In your little treadmill
Forgetful of the cage
That you live in

Until when a red sunset
Sat above the mountains
Its swords were dipped ion blood
It cut through the bars of your cage
And you ran off into the night alive

An Authority Bias

It had an authority bias
This sheep
It did what it was told to do
And it died

Its blood was drained into cups
Its flesh was eaten
Its wool was used for clothing

He had an authority bias
This man
He was plea bargained into oblivion
Where truth didn’t shine
And his soul
Was laid out like a carpet

Role Model Blues

You can be sure
That if
At the top of the heap
There is
A Role Model
As dazzling
As the light in a chandelier
You can also
Be sure that
At the bottom of the heap
There are people
Struggling
In the confusion
Of the long and bloody tapestry
Of a losing battle

The harsh light

It was the harsh light of the morning after the bailiffs had taken everything
And the status quo moved back in with their taste for minimalism

It was the harsh light of the morning after the end of the school play
With the chairs stacked up against the wall as if nothing had happened on the bare dusty floorboards

It was the harsh light of the morning after when everyone had finished eating the party cake and drinking the party wine
When the guard dogs had been positioned in the yard and the security guard sat down to watch the security camera

It was the harsh light of the morning after with the lock and chain on the front door
when the new system is exchanged for the old freedom and decimilisation starts to replace the horse and hand

It was the harsh light of the morning after when the coaches were gone and the pubs were dead and the memory of those days slept under a newspaper in the forgotten streets of the past

And like a dream animal, I ran on all fours through the streets of the town listening for their voices, looking for their party faces
feeling abandoned and facing the armed ranks of the New Model Army alone

And the harsh light is owned by the new system and they whitewash the whole world with shredded paper and confetti