Uniform

I’m from a time
When green land was punctured
By grey men, fertile
Features homogenous
Blades of sweet screaming
Little land of golden bricks
Shook under the weight
Of demolition dating.
Concrete jungles swung
Through tired old tin roof shacks
Replaced by luxury
Fa├žades, sat high above
The natural eye line
They flaunted their wealth
From the top floor
Cash would have landed
Like bombs, if any had
Trickled down.
We could customise ourselves
In ways future thinkers
Could never have foreseen
But we accepted our uniform
The grey replaced the green

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Uniform

Disinfect

Disinfect! Disinfect!
Can you spray that
Can you spray that spray can?
Hygiene makes a better place man

It’s all in the detailed dettol agreement
See a stain and conceal it
Soak with expenses and leave wistfully
The city cannot sleep through the sequence

Disinfect! Disinfect!
Can you spray that
Can you spray that spray can?
Hygiene makes a better place man

See a street sleeper? Wake him up
This area’s for walkers, no crusts
Of old coins or stains of old clothes
We facilitate cleansing throughout this zone

Disinfect! Disinfect!
Can you spray that
Can you spray that spray can?
Hygiene makes a better place man

There’s no need for you to grieve
We manage the placement of tasteful wreaths
No body will ever be seen
Not while we prowl the streets with our team

Disinfect! Disinfect!
Can you spray that
Can you spray that spray can?
Hygiene makes a better place man

Disinfect

Amateur

It’s hard to tell once on
The train to Birmingham
Whether it changed anything
Seeing a multiracial society
Kids running across bustling streets
The sights and smells differ
From quiet, sterilised streets
Amateur gardeners knead out
The weeds around a small plot
Of land. I’m bored just watching
The intricate backbreaking toil
I could remove the signs from
School gates, take what disruption
I can get my hands upon
Lice crawling on bare skin
Escape, not yet an option

Amateur