Aux Armes Citoyens! Poem by Mary Champion

STORMING THE BASTARDS DAY - 14 July 2009.
LET THEM EAT PIG-SWILL.

Sitting knitting one wet night a thought occurred to me
about the blockhead bankers and the rest, who seem to be
impervious to common sense, dismissive of our pain:
the oligarchs and other swine who ride the Gravy Train.
It's time they had a warning that the serfs have had enough,
the smoothly running Gravy Train is due to get it rough.

*
If you don't quit the Gravy Train we'll board and push you off.
You cannot spend much longer with your fat chops in a trough.
It isn't fair, so don't you dare ‘cos we're not standing by
while you ride on the Gravy Train. Get off it now or die!

You got aboard the Gravy Train believing it would speed
unchecked towards forever to satisfy your greed.
But as that Gravy Train sped past, it sucked the life from us-
the plebs who haven't even got a bloody gravy bus.

You act like you don't have a clue to what it's like out here,
so get off of the Gravy Train - it's time to feel the fear.
It's time to put the brakes on hard or get it in the neck
when we derail the Gravy Train and you die in the wreck.

We'll shut down your tax havens; there will be no place to hide,
while you were on the Gravy Train, you took us for a ride.
Get off! Get off the Gravy Train, the mob is turning mean
A few have gone on e-bay searching for a guillotine.

*

Sitting knitting I recalled old women long ago
who lined the streets of Paris when they came to watch the show.
The uber rich who never used the heads they had cut off,
it wasn't only snouts we saw that day, piled in a trough.
Get off, get off the Gravy Train; beware the sans culottes!
The worms are turning even now, so heed the warning shot.