Sometimes we battle the winds and shout back at the thunder,
become the budgie on the ladder, the rat on the treadmill,
steering ourselves and our kin through the rapids,
dodging the craters and potholes on life’s highways,
diverting left and right, dodging slips, trips and falls,
fighting the bulls and bears, the boom-bust-boom-bust bankers,
carrying the depression of the recession, shoulders forced to sink,
falling exhausted into the armchair, feeling like the weakest link.
Then, flickering on the screen in the big box in the corner,
our George, the fiscal funster, all furrowed, a deadpan chap ,
tells us that times are hard and friends are few,
reminding us that the whole world order is “out of order”,
that we should see our leaders in the form of a bright blessing,
as he blinds us with talk of money-maths ending in endless zeros,
and I try not to think of this eek-onomics man as a curse,
until I check for my share and find there’s nothing in my purse.
Compared to how Dick Turpin went about his chosen task,
is this Osborne Autumn Statement another method…
.....with the same mask?