Liquorice Footprints.

Yes. Capitalism is failing people!
Hungry mouths, fragile bones.
Government’s sucking: ‘Ice-Cream’ cones.
‘Categorisation’ to determine eligibility.
Welcome to the contested invisibility
Liquorice Language on: ‘Thorny Crowns’
Democracy rises like Bread, in all towns.
Smokes my pockets, leaves me in slums.
Paints me in numbers, with filthy bums
Spaghetti Junction, as we lose control.
Diced like meat, cubed into their hole.
I’m ejecting cookies, rolled up to throw.
Into your hands, as you chalk us; down low
Self-Assessment forms, in a pickled mess.
Under pressure, intense feelings of stress
‘I Daniel Blake’ deserved better, a fair trial
Unjust actions left me ‘Out Cold’, in style.
I’ll just lick the gutter and die with a disease.
Spit-Polish your shoes. Bent down, on my knees.
It’s time to get ‘Anarchic’ and fight back hard
With ‘Punk Fashion Nails’; for many blow, scarred.
Let’s turn back in time, ‘Cher’ 50 years on the clock
To relive those conditions, engulfed in: ‘Black Rock’.
Exploitative Banners, that’s where Demons; are used
With glass shots that scorn the innocent, fully bruised.
Beggars can be choosers and sit drowning in blood
Frying the hopes of the: ‘Deserving’, in sweaty mud.
Diamond tears in my mind, machete knife in my heart
Drinking red-liquid tears the flesh: “It’s dead smart”.
Dominelli States: “We need optimistic measures”.
To end marginalisation and calm, stormy weathers.
Get on this train and look me, deep in the eyes:
“Don’t you dare tell me, you can’t hear, broken cries”.
A fine-tuned machine, ‘Turing’ with: Golden Clogs.
Wanna sing with the Elite? Or swim with the Frogs?
 Mr. Monopoly’s board continues, this brutal game
Swaying with ‘Skin Heads’, injecting stigmas and shame.
It’s Paper to the Gods, we’re like ghosts of the night.
Enigmatic Strangers filling, ‘Common Benches’ to bite.
Controversial ideals stamp veins, to create a cold war.
Logged by a: ‘Callous Fascist’, whose thirsty for more.
‘Scatmen’ eat the cherries, freshly laced for tomorrow
Square slates in the grass, ‘Whisper Careless’; in sorrow.
Corporate Dinosaurs lurking, the hall of Good Wealth
“How’s it hanging Street Kids? All Mental, in Health”?
Lobotomized in a queue under, the: Rabbit Proof Fence.
Leather Brained, Chelsie Smiles; to keep up the pretence
“Left-Wing” Functionalism ‘Marx’, envelopes at the seals.
Feminists dance to the beat, sexes’ back in slick heels!
“Right-Wingers” on the pitch, a poor match is played
‘Thatcher’s’ pulling strings, dressed in Marmalade.
‘Guy’s’ plotting with ‘Marc’, behind ‘Almond’ Sun-glasses
Privatisation on the Markets, dominating: World Classes.
Lipstick on your collars or bags of sand? It’s your choice
Those Yellow helpers are swallowed, to needle your voice.
‘Billy, He Bragg’s’ sat on ‘Changeling’s’ Ward, Psychiatric
What’s the next move? A bloody clone? Get in: ‘Hat-trick’!
Lemon Zest spikes your platter with juices, bittersweet.
Bewildered Cattle, ruffle feathers; to stick to his feet.
 Smooth Russian Criminals, deep-throat in Orange Salt
Angelina’s not here. Shit! Well, let’s ask… Usain Bolt.
Skeletons rock in the dust, as the clouds light up grey.
Concentration Camp’s out. It’s now Holocaust Day.
Penned with Illuminous Ink, for ‘Ian’s Dury’ it calls.
We’re just like Pink Floyd, dirty bricks in the walls.
Human Rights? In a skip! Dynamite bombs, the tank.
‘Michaels’ got his Caine’. Can’t escape, a good spank!
Minsky told of a genetic weakness, unstable in tune
Whilst Mr. Apples blows out, the candle-lit room.
Unemployment high rise, drizzled; in puddles of Honey.
‘Voldemort’s’ on your back, boiling you like ‘Bugs Bunny’!
Pollution choking tongues, with glitter kisses of Silk
As you sit sipping on wooden straws, curdled in Milk
Fine Brown Sugar which, Crystallises ‘Political Winks’.
Normalisation on tap, like Pepper Whiskey, one drinks.
‘Power Rangers’ mogadon, by suede booting with a tick
‘It’s a Rat Race’ fully stemmed, by a: ‘Colourful Prick’.
Copyright © 2017 by Bernadette O’Horo.
Published in my book entitled: Liquorice in 2017 available at:

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