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 The Scent That Captures That "1930s Moment"!

All material copyrighted to © 2014

or to the various credited sources © 2014

...Not far enough, no doubt the propertied Tory will hope,

While the shelterless residuum of his constituents are carried

Away by the purges of impossible blows, ferocious and

Unfeeling as the blasts of opprobrium apportioned to

A beggar by minted Tory politician to the thuggish

Gobby monosyllables of GET A JOB, GET A JOB, GET A JOB!

Nothing allegorical about it: this is just the jab-jab-jab-boff

Of the painfully unfigurative toe-capped boot of intolerance,

Of gentrified fascism… And sofa-surfers no doubt make

The most of ripped-up flytipped sofas wiggling like loose

Cloth-puppet tooths from the lockjawed mouths of skips,

To ride jolting St Jude, whether roughshod or in saddle,

Politicians pass-the-buck, then place their chips on buckaroo…





One night a Brighton hobo had a dream –

He dreamd he was hobbling along the beach of the Ward

With his local MP – and across the sand smudged strange graphs;

In each graph he noticed two sets of statistics,

One was spun by Government, the other uncovered by experts –

The former was in double-figures but the latter was in treble.

Strangely, the Government graph was of sharper definition.

The beggar looked back at the statistics in the sand.

He noticed that many times along the street-traipse of his life

There was only one set of statistics –the Government’s,

Which didn’t chime with the numbers he’d known

And often counted on, who’d either been thrown into prison,

Left out on the street, or died from exposure to the elements.

And he noticed these statistics were at their sharpest

At the hardest times of deaths and fatal incidents

Hardly noticed by the specially appointed Tsars to chart them.

This really bothered him and he questioned his MP about it:

“Honourable Member, you said that once I consulted you

At your surgery about my homeless situation that you

Would help me find a shelter, or if not, at least explain

Why we homeless can no longer squat in empty properties

No matter how wretched the weather might be…

But I’ve noticed that during these most exposed periods

There was only one set of statistics in the sand..

I don’t understand why in times when we needed you most,

You should not represent us…”.


The MP replied, “My impecunious constituent,

I do not and would never, ever represent you,

Especially not during the passage of anti-squatting legislation.

When you saw only one set of statistics in the sand,

It was then that I buried you”…



It is simply UNACCEPTABLE that some on benefits have

More coming in than those who WORK (bark WORK!);

To think, those feral urban foxes, feckless non-contributors

And lounging scroungers finding it easier to keep Mr Wolf

From the door than the Jemima Puddleduck working poor,

Who also have to wait longer than Johnny Foreigner fleeing

Some oily war, longer than the sponger, or sicko, for social

Housing or a Council House anchor –so now you know

What to say to those Little Red Chiding Hoodies, Do-Gooders

And Bleeding Heart Liberals when they start bleating

Like lambs about the stigmatised poor! NO MORE!

(Shout NO MORE!)… Now all those in social housing or

Council flats with one bedroom more than they need

Must be forced to move out or face a cut in their Local

Housing Allowance –the new Herodic Law; and that

Also goes for disabled tenants swinging the lead with one

Spare bedroom used to store their equipment: they have

The option to downsize their specially adapted spaces,

Or downgrade their impairments; or find smaller places

Out in the doughnut-churn of outer ghettos; or take in

Lodgers; or limp their way down to Thierry’s Breton’s

Local Work Capability Assessment centres for doses

Of miracle cures, take in the waters of the Atos Grotto,

The replenishing spas, nothing to lose: if they’re not scroungers

They’ll slowly sink to the bottom and probably drown,

And if they are scroungers, they’ll float on the surface

And be declared “fit to work”, then be pushed under by

Having their benefits stripped –while hundreds of others

Previously employed in spite of disabilities are suddenly

On the dole again since the Remploy factories were deemed

‘Unfit’ to employ them for lack of productivity, these

Now ex-workers found only “fit” for unemployment;

These clearances and closures of underoccupied or under-

Productive spaces have to be done in order to rehouse two

Million families cramped in over-occupied accommodation…


Why not try out our new DEVON VIOLET WATERS

Replenishing spas that massage away all psychical resistance

To making work pay; a miracle cure guaranteed to soften up

Those tight tissues and tensing muscles that stand in the way

Of laps to employment –work is, after all, the miracle cure

For all ills and ailments afflicting cultures of idleness today,

So why not take that leap and make a splash in DEVON


(Or your benefits BACK!)…

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