How Swift
We forget
that there was a time
that satire was preserved
for the throats of the pompous,
the lofty with copper bust
on show
in Halls or outside churches,
seeming pious in their pose
and their place in history texts assured,
satire was preserved for them,
satire, let’s eat the rich,
for in their taste for blood,
the Chingford Iain, teeth bared
pumping fist
now uses the poor for fuel,
the disabled to further his cause
of a bright beautiful future,
where no one forgets
to stay healthy, productive, a slave to the till,
the satire is now in the hands of the elite
and they are laughing all the way
to our graves.
Ian D. Hall 2017