Two years back the Police Federation
warned hatchet May cuts would cost the nation:
community policing so assailed,
that intelligence gathering had failed.
'Who we should track, don't limit it by cost;
triage our threats and risk that lives be lost.'
'Oh, you scaremongers!' May retorted, 'Pooh!
Cry wolf? I've cut your cloth. Wear it! Make do!'
Then, two years down the timeline, people dead
and maimed for life for what she did and said.
The guilt and shame should wrack her in her bed
but on she creaks, her conscience long since sped,
predation animated by despite :-
old ladies to deport before her night,
benefits to slash, sanctions to impose.
Many the ways of weakness to dispose.
....................................
Apologies to Dryden, Pope, their stables and ilk.
YOU ARE READING
The Singing Season
PoetryThe Singing Season. That's the spring-time. You'll also like other MajorSeventh poetry collections - and there are so many to choose from.
