Lilieth leapt the electric fence,

Lilieth leapt the electric fence,

Maybe, at the time, it made sense,

To pounce, claws extended, at a bird in flight,

And so, fall into freedom by accident.

Or maybe she made a deliberate jailbreak,

‘cause you gotta do what you gotta do,

To get outta the zoo.

Who knows what a lynx thinks?

 

But briefly, Lilieth  the lynx got away

And was no longer on display,

She was no longer confined,

To be admired or to be ignored ,

By the curious, the awestruck, or the bored.

Peering through the wire.

 

Perhaps real freedom then kicked in,

With no food and drink provided,

Out in the woods and the fields and hills,

To eat she has to hunt and kill,

And at first maybe she has an edge,

As it must be centuries,

Since any lynx walked and stalked

Along these thickets and hedges,

So maybe some rabbits and mice,

Or a bird or two, turned just too late

And drew their last breaths,

Between the jaws of golden-eyed death.

 

Sadly, hunters can be hunted too,

And Lilieth could not be left to be free,

She was the ‘property’ of a zoo,

And large predators in Britain just cannot be,

Unless they’re members of the bourgeoisie.

 

Uncaught Lilieth caused official fear

Alleged to pose a risk “severe”,

So a killing bullet, not a tranquilising dart,

Was sent to stop this beauty’s heart.

 

But the wheel will turn, and justice will be done,

And free once more,  Lilieth will run,

Padding along on larger paws,

With longer, stronger, deadlier claws,

Reborn a larger, fiercer cat,

 

She’ll rip out the throats of bureaucrats.

imperial shitstorm

Before I was born,

The island where I now live,

Was one origin

Of a worldwide shitstorm.

A tornado of piracy,

A cyclone of brutality,

Sending ships

To inflict war, exploitation

And imperial inhumanity.

It was not unique in this,

And what’s more,

Maybe its people learnt

From what had gone before,

When longships and galleys

Arrived on its shores.

For too long a time

There was success

In these crimes,

Because it had the luck

To strike when

Its victims were

Divided and weak.

Then its sins were glorified,

Dressed with stolen jewels,

Silks, gold and furs

And myths that dignified

Theft’s cause.

Many who had stayed home,

Responded with

Loud applause

Since the imperial shitstorm

Transformed them

Into some sort of master race

Told they were superior

To others in

Other places.

For a while

This obscene panoply

Trundled on like

Some vast stone Victorian memorial

Dragged by proles,

Peasants and slaves

Trailing behind

Tears, bloodstains and

Broken bodies and souls

For the benefit

Of ruling ghouls.

But it’s now going

Slower and slower,

As its victims have rebelled,

Now it can barely crawl.

It needs sticks, supports

And surgeries

To stagger along at all

But it is still greeted

With cheers

For every lurch it makes

‘Reform’, they cry

Yet it’s far too late

For this lurching zombie

Parasite state.