I wish I was flying, screaming , in the bright sky,
Like the swifts that returned to England today.
I wish I could
be anywhere far away
From a
nation being forcefed until it sickens
On an
unrelenting diet of coronation chicken
Glutinous golden
goo, spicy thickened and sweet
Containing slimy
chunks of factory farmed birdmeat.
Mother mainstream
media won’t let us go hungry
We must be
stuffed and stuffed again
In case we get
angry
With made-up
ceremonies, pomp fiction, gaudy paraphernalia
And Fawning flunkies dressed up in overpriced regalia
Glittering icing
on the rich shitcake of political failure.
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