Class War

I've been sitting on this poem for some time, so it needs to see the light of day before Ian Duncan-Smith slips from the collective memory..

Category

Poems of love and hate

Sub-category

Grumpy old man poems

Author

Breakfast With Iain Duncan-Smith

I normally eat cereal or, maybe, a boiled egg,
But today I'm having caviar, and ham, carved form the leg,
There's gold cutlery and linen cloth, and spreads brought from the deli,
And candied fruits and plovers' eggs, to tempt and fill my belly.

And I said to Ian Duncan-Smith, how can we eat this spread?
When people are going hungry, it's messing with my head,
But he smiled a smile of smug content, said, don't listing to that braying,
And have another roasted quail, it's all for free, the plebs are paying.

Copyright © Max Scratchmann. All Rights Reserved

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