On the 34th anniverary of the beginning of the miners’ strike, 5 March, 1984
’Twere ’84, and the Tory whores
Did scheme and plot in Parliament:
On strike were England’s collieries,
And the coppers were all bent.
‘Beware Maggie Thatcher, my son!
‘The deeper cuts, the rising rents!
‘Beware the Milk Snatcher, and shun
‘The Conservative Government!’
I took my P45 in hand:
Long time a paying job I sought –
Then saw the view of a soup queue
And stood a while in thought.
And as with coal-black face I stood,
The Iron Dame, in the Law’s name,
Rode roughshod through our mining towns,
And closed them as she came!
Her Boys in Blue, they galloped through,
Our picket lines were charged and snapped!
Now ‘modernised’, she took our lives,
And went triumphant back!
‘Hast thou destroyed the unions?
‘Welcome to our class, O grocer’s daughter!
‘We’ll bury you a Baroness!’
(They shook with noble laughter.)
Three decades on, and Thatcher’s spawn
Are once again in Government;
Society is dead and gone,
And the money’s all spent.
– after Lewis Carroll