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Has she done the accompanying video yet? Orwell missed a trick by not exploiting technology, but all of her modern-day poetry peers are nailing it.
Crisps for dinner and a pint of best,
Our soccer club’s better than the rest.
City, United, Albion, Rovers,
Cobbled streets that advertise Hovis.
Knuckle-busters, ASBOs, car-park fights,
Poundland, Asda, bingo nights.
Matchstalk men, matchstalk cats,
Matchstick dogs, and council flats.
Community centres and spray painted swearing,
Harassed policemen and teachers past caring.
Unions, strikes, “Everybody Out!”
I don’t want to.
You’ve got to.
We won’t earn nowt.
Cotton mills and cooling towers,
Old tin baths, no power showers.
A certain pride, a certain swagger,
A fist, a stick, a gun, a dagger.
Giros, glue-sniffing, dogs on ropes,
But I see people, with dreams, with hopes.