Bonfire Night Poem

Remember remember the 5th of November
Gunpowder treason and plot
Remember remember each parliament member
And all of the money he's got
Remember the commons so plush that they sit in
More comfy than our common homes
Remember the shiny white toilets they shit in
Remember who cleans out the bowls
Remember their parties, remember their do’s
Remember who waits at their table
See their posh clothing and expensive shoes
Who pays for that designer label?
Remember the exotic trips that they take
And how you stay home cos youre poor
Remember remember the laws that they make
And who those twats make the laws for
Remember the taxes you pay like a fool
Remember the wages they get
Who put their children in posh public school?
And who made ours illiterate
Remember remember their butlers and maids
Remember their nannys and cooks
Remember remember how much you are paid
And how much we give to these crooks
Remember their limo remember their yacht
Remember how you take the bus
Remember that nice country home that they’ve got
Where are the villas for us?
Remember the homeless folk out on the streets
Remember their Westminster flats
See them in the commons sat fat in their seats
And us lot all out here like rats
Remember your bills, remember your debt
Youll be paying it off til you die
You slave away but they never sweat
Except when theyre telling a lie
Remember those fuckers who pay to get sucked
By working class women and men
Remember us suckers who keep getting fucked
Over and over by them
I swear on the bonfire we shouldn’t be burning
Guy Fawkes but these parliament pricks
It’s the government these days that needs overturning
Who’s tired of their sly little tricks?
In that case Im starting a brand new tradition
It’s Gordon on Wednesday we’ll burn!
“Penny for the Brown”’ll be our new rendition
And every penny I earn
Will go into planning the next revolution
Gunpowder treason and plot
These parliaiment fuckers are human pollution
I hope to blow up the whole lot

phlegmployee of the month

part 1: honesty

unemployed i go sweating round the agencies to look for work. in the windows are ads for jobs available. i make note, then go home & change my own cv to fit description. if it’s sales, i've had 2 years’ experience. if it’s marketing, i've done a year & a half. i left my last job (reluctantly) because i was a temp (in a way, this is true. i never intended to stay). most agencies never check. in the interview for this job i lie beautifully & laugh at all jokes. i am successful.


part 2: know-how

peanuts per hour is better than no nuts per hour. i quite like peanuts. 1st day in this job the promise of peanuts gives me an air of enthusiasm & capability. but i lied in the interview about my typing skills & this slows me down. i’m put to work in half an hour on a job i’m not really sure how to do. i fumble, say um a lot. when boss walks by i make use of my fluency in Bull. i accidentally bollox the system but leave it for someone else to sort out. i usually scrape by, & as long as no-one notices the scratch-marks i might just see next month.


part 3: customer empathy

my cv speaks opposite of truth: i don’t really enjoy meeting new people. new people are same as old people in their tiny tyrannies and babyflares of rage. i hate to lose my rag but i can be quite forgetful. i should put it on my keyring. then the temptation to say fuckyou instead of thankyou, the overwhelming urge not to send that letter or that check. the customer is always shite, & to be treated as such. my fellow employees unknowingly drink my spit. i’m really starting to enjoy my new job.


part 4: team work

some people work, some people shirk. i prefer the middle way – do enough to get by, & no more. when boss looks over i’m busy as a bee, keypad buzz & headset hum; when boss look away, i’m slack as a used rubber. in front of colleagues i pretend a mask of knowing efficiency, & blame my bungles on someone else. that person then the team scapegoat. as long as heat’s deflected from me, i don’t really care who ends up being sacrificed.


part 5: motivation

i sit square at my square desk, pretending to work – but my head’s full of bubbles. i put some stationary in my bag; i drink tea out of someone else’s mug. boss comes over for a word. i suck up and ensure at least another week of employment. then i take a comfort break. then i go to the breakout area. then i go back to my desk & draw some cartoons in artpad. payday a week away but i will find stuff to do. colleagues look sideways as phone rings and i answer. accidental cut-off occurs when they look away. “yes sir, yes sir” i say to thin air. three bags full, sir. but full of what, only i can know, as boss walks by, & i SMILE.