8 Million Stories

Translucent boxes precariously piled
too much effort
to switch off the lights
before going home

Economy on the rocks
and so we must all sacrifice
to save the ship

Bonuses for some
ever reducing benefits for others
it was ever thus

Besuited and besotted
thirtysomethings at play
coke in corners now
sex later

In other corners
quiet despair
the dregs know that they are surplus to requirements
know that the Big Society will help the Big Boys
and that it’s hard to be big when on your knees

Searching down by the river
looking for shelter from the weather
hiding from the police
chased away for being scroungers
for being an eyesore

"I'm alright Jack"
"They are not like us"
"We have to look after our own"
the soundbites of intellectual bankruptcy

Eating cat food is not science fiction,
but necessity,
becoming a luxury

Finding some dry cardboard
hunkering down for the night
hoping for a new dawn

But not expecting anything to change

There are eight million stories in the Naked City
this has been one of them


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