Cameron values:

Cameron values:
Belief in Freedom – and the ability to take liberties;
Tolerance of others – so long as they are brothers
In his crony alms;
Accepting personal and social responsibility – by
Giving it to personnel who lord the harm and those
Who can’t afford not to make scapegoats just to
Plug the gap in due accountability;
Respecting and upholding the rule of law – insofar
As it does not impinge on the entropic economic,
Greed-is-to-aspire death machine.

And, too, he goes compare and sees his values
Everywhere in symbols. How the motifs and his
Motives face and bow!

For how he loves his Union Flag
As much as all the striver/skiver tags;
He relishes his fish and chips – though maybe not
As much as people rummaging for food in skips.
And how his football quips attest to his devotion to
All patriotic notions! Under Cameron Mao, now
Kettling is protest sport – and cannons in the street
Are bought as easily as vested interest.

With a zest, he loves to love an institution with
Established constitution – Magna Carta: eat your heart out!
Call-me-Dave’s solicitations pale the knaves of old as
Honest, altruistic scolds.

One heart, one mind, one view, or not at all
Not you
Not you
And, no: not you
Are ‘British values’ under Cameron’s petty, mindless gall.

‘British Values’?

What would you have us value, then?
What passes for these British traits?
Is it the wilful diminution of democracy
That separates the people from the state?
Or maybe our incessantly insistent view
That what we do is “help” the world for its
Own sake?

No, wait! I think I’ve got it: it’s that fair play
Code we think we own! How righteously
Polite we are! Perhaps we should commission
Us a global honour mission thus we won’t feel
So alone.

So, is it in our famous law and order you’ve
Translated into money talks? Our world
Anointed tolerance that shadow-stalks the
Local masses? Could it be the age-old
Choreography between the economic classes?
Is it in our quaint ability to wait in lines? The
Neoliberal culture of I’ll only pay for mine?

Oh, wait! Don’t tell me! Let me guess: you mean
Like how you cherish our belovèd NHS?

Is it the non-complaining strategy that manifestly
Rhymes with passive-born aggression?
Or perhaps it’s that amazing, self-congratulating
Way we tend to trip out on our history’s lessons?

Oh, hang on!

Could it even be our undeniable capacity to finger
Point with swinging lead and buried heads? Or,
Might it be our deep, rich, grass-root, time-was Cool
Britannia, now, by Cowell’s ilk and cynical palaver,
Handled into operatic lather? Is it in the way we gush
And gift a nobody to unreserved celebrity and rush to
Make pariahs of the stars beyond our knowing? Yes!
It surely has to be the Press with all its freedom to

Or is it how we toe the line when Lord America decides
We might be useful hand-tools, after all? Is it our poodle
Disposition or our sniffy exhibition that defines our island

Do Britain’s expositions make her values truly worthy
Or perfidious and small?

What the hell and where the heck are all these dandy
‘British values’? Is it in the way you treat the NEETs?
The homeless, sleeping on the streets? The single
Parent? The disabled? Every worker like a serf?

Is it how you’re transfixed by everybody’s patriotic worth?

Perhaps you’d like our babies stamped at birth, like eggs,
With redly roaring lions? Then, once they are schooled and
Duly cloned, be branded with a standard – maybe tractors
Backed by Union Flags to make their British value known?