TO SERFDOM. To the disembodied claw,

iron pincer of adjustment; to another

glorious four years of being all -

right - Jack. To freedom in a single bound.

To furious pedalling into gale-force wind.

To dereliction: to becoming one

of us by slow deregulation, sloughing

conscience as you near the brimming trough.

To dying of ignorance. To token resistance.

To your constituents, ungrateful rabble

though they may be. To the camera, inert

force-multiplier; to the tooled-up Met,

their horses shamming injury. To cancer,

wild obsolescence, at unheard-of length.