Wake up. Wank. Wash and shave.
Have a cuppa and check my emails.
Laugh at some clips on YouTube
and wonder if my digital doppelganger
(courtesy of a database of databases)
is going to be late for work (hint: it is)
then have the misfortune to go on Facebook
and dare to tell my friends what I really think.
Then come the outcries of well-heeled men
with shadows and screams held in their eyes like
a lunatic's vision of the future in a crystal ball.
There's no boot stamping on a human face
because no that would be too obvious,
so out come the legions of Oxbridge recruits
in sharp suits and dapper ties to wag their fingers
and gravely shake their heads.
But how's this for a "racially aggravated public order offence"?:
Fuck you, imperialist cracker scum,
you Yankee arse sniffing poodles
what right do you have to fly our flag
over the graves of the not-so-secret dead?
None, of course but that wont stop you
like Javert on the trail of Valjean you see
the guilty everywhere except for in the mirror.
Decades ago misguided young men were simply
following orders and Nuremberg awaited them, but
what court will stand in judgement over our finest sons?
Certainly not an English one; no they're too busy
locking up kids for speaking their mind, not knowing
that thinking outside the box could get you put in one.
The only thing they have to fear is fear itself which
apparently is us and everyone who knows enough is enough.