The Guardian 25 May, 2005


He thought every timber
was rotten to the heart.

It was because
he could see through
the surface charade Ė
the teeth bared in
bossís grin, the
swindle of the wages
system, the society
based on theft.

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The union early on
swept him up,
showed him the charade
is exploitation
and behind it
is slavery; that
without the collective
you donít stand
a chance.

The source of wealth
no longer a mystery,
he walks with head
held high, seeking
out the bonds
that will bind
his class in its
common humanity,
its common, endless

Tom Pearson