Why I Detest Thatcherism! Poem by DM W

O the children conceived in Thatcher's womb,
Metaphorically speaking of course,
Are so blind & vain. It is so tragic
That they chose garish style over content;
Shameless self promotion over conscience;
And of course buried their heads in the sand.
I pretend that I don't know them. Indeed
I hate their guts. O how I wish I'd been
Around in the radical Sixties &
The raunchy, experimental Seventies.
Rather than suffer the indignity
Of the gross, yuppyfied nineteen eighties;
When beads, long hair, beards & dope were replaced
By clean cut sycophants in suit & ties;
When a groovy, laid back society
Turned decidedly stark & cut throat;
When greed was considered good and sadly
Prized culture was consigned to the dustbin.