Nicky Jones


When did we, the people

say banks could invest our money?

When did we, the voters

say councils could deposit our money?

When did we, the public

say our favourite charity could risk our money?

….in shares, in dares,

in who cares repositories,

in off shore safe havens,

in craven cottages leaking like sieves?

Spivs could do better,

put cash under the bed,

in lead, in gold,

in something solid and old.

The game’s up!

It’s out of the bag!

Fat cat directors carrying their swag,

are seen dragging profit home,

to shore up their upper crust,

while we are toast, at a loss,

you can be sure it’s going to cost.

Well, I won’t be gagged!

I want to gag!

This is a gag, isn’t it?

If it is I’m not laughing,

barfing all the way to the bank,

a think tank of bile,

spewing vile thoughts

towards the men at the top.

They have their eye on the Dow Jones,

are playing footsie with the FTSE,

flirting with the Nikkei,

as they size up the market.

We’ve been duped,

pooped upon from a great height.

No time for blame's ablution:

Viva the revolution!

Nicky Jones © 2008