Profit’s cosh

Roll up! Roll up!
A feudal gift!
Who’ll start the bid
Where value fits
The drudge
And cudgel never quits
The one pound fish
And nine to five
Disabled fabled
Hung to dry
The young ‘uns squandered
On old lies
From sanction knife
To food bank dish
Workfare, a lair
To bonded strife
On call to all
Or hours of zero calls, at all
The welfare falls
No space to thrive
Takes everything to just survive
Bish bosh!
The cosh of profit lives
Commodified to market wish
Who gives a fig
For equal shares
The serf-bound life
Is spice and grist
To Papa’s neoliberal pish

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