Saturday, October 1, 2011

Austerity Mantra


            Everything must be on the table.
 Your ninety seven year old granny
            is no longer cost effective, would
benefit greatly from being brought face to face
            with a compassionate baseball bat.
The figures speak for themselves and will
            be worse by morning. The paraplegic
in his insanely expensive wheelchair
            will have to crawl as God intended.
Here are the figures that won’t stop
            speaking for themselves, this is the table
everything must be on. Yesterday my name was
            Temporary Fiscal Adjustment.

Tonight, the insect in the radio calls me
            The Inevitable. When the economist
puts his hand up, take care not to cough.
            Everything’s on the table and
the table’s tiny. I’d send you a pillow
            to hold hard over the child’s face
‘til the kicking stops, but at current rates
            there’ll be no pillow. I am the unthinkable
but you will think me. Pack her mouth
            with tea towels, hold down firmly
your old mildewed raincoat,
            ‘til there’s no more breath.

            Tomorrow I’ll be known as
Four Year Consolidation Package.
            Lock the cat in the oven and bake
at two hundred degrees centigrade.
            Tie your last plastic bag over
your own head. The figures speak for themselves
            and there is no table.

KEVIN HIGGINS

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