In a flat on the rise but fall of the market,
Resident chants can be heard,
‘’Bye, bye today’s mortgage, you are now past to cark it’’,
For one of the so many, she lives so high and looks down like a bird
Her passageway heat remains unused, pockets empty, so instead runs on cold,
Background noises of radio write-ups on wars foretold, gas and ships on the withhold,
Next up this hour? Definitely not the running water of a comforting shower
Rather faces once always seen before this mother had to sell her television screen,
Those pompous politicians of the crooked, few and far between,
Taking to the airways to re-ly the message,
‘’Defy against all the odds’’ and through this we are all somehow even
Breadline equal to dollar and dime,
Changes in survival will somehow be easy enough sussed,
Towards the front door now and these names of fraudulence find faces,
Rolled up and printed under cons and cuss and disgraces,
Cue to the twelfth month in a row, national complaints and the discussed,
...For all to find fluster on the factually feared and fictionally fussed,
Back and continuing towards the kitchen lays an oven, stoves a skin of dust,
Not forgetting the remains of yesteryears shop bought pie crust,
Too the microwave, unplugged and awaiting a new coat of abandonments rust,
And before panning outwards to seize the breeze block stairs,
One bypasses her thermostat, fitted to the wall but strictly out of bounds
Alternative to huddle under a blanket, to be shared tonight on rallying rounds,
Enter the permits of the parking lot,
Council maintenance now ignorance and shot
Spaces empty but land filled, fuelled on bottled ale and scrunched up paper bale,
...Inked with the milk of more money or else, in the pen of state and men,
These bills be prescriptions to increased mental ills and escapist pills,
An eraser to life’s savings on wills,
On returning to the flat finds the evidential breadcrumbs of a bank visit,
Not to launder, not to loan,
Such are locked away along with the waging arrows that fall and pivot
Stated rather frozen foods, tinned goods for this woman here single, there never alone,
As cupboards are plenty but inside nothing to own,
Welcome extinguishers for her kids’ stomachs as they groan,
Sincere self again to miss out to put before her foundling others, duty of mothers,
And for those eyes that would look in, her plate be empty with only whispers of air,
As for her two? Forever will be full on of love and care.
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