CUTS

For The Chop

When the Boss wields the blade
(sacrifices a part to preserve the whole?)
he says it's 'unfortunate but necessary.'

When the unfortunate heads roll
those remaining are, understandably, wary
and listen carefully to what is said
concerning earning and the price of daily bread.

The rumours spread. Further cuts are hinted at
- and then denied.

There's fighting talk and talk of
getting round a table
'to sort this thing out.'

And eventually it is sort of
sorted out.

And there are photographs of Officials,
and of the Boss, smiling, joking
and shaking bloody hands.



Poem copyright Bernard Young

(This was written many, many years ago. All the stuff I see on the news at the moment made me take another look at it).