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To May, Whom It Concerns

• This poem was a commission from the Royal Albert Hall for performance at their ‘Beat Poetry Rebooted’ event, which took poetry from the 1965 International Poetry Incarnation event as a starting point for new writing. I took Adrian Mitchell’s ‘To Whom It May Concern (Tell Me Lies About Vietnam)’ and applied it to the contemporary political scene just in advance of the 2017 general election. 
  

  
  

  I was always taught to tell the truth, Mrs May,
  

  and since I was a child I’ve carried on that way,
  

  so gnaw at me with soundbites
  

  and tell me lies about… everything.
  

  
  

  Heard the gutter-press utterances screaming indignation,
  

  found a way to pull the plug and let it flow away again,
  

  so fill my paths with common enemies,
  

  turn me against my neighbour,
  

  tell me lies about immigration.
  

  
  

  Every time I go outside all I hear is blame,
  

  and at matriculation all I hear are Norman names –
  

  so fill your benches with Übermenschen,
  

  there’s room at the top, please tell me still,
  

  and don’t forget to fake-smile as you kill,
  

  and tell me lies about social mobility.
  

  
  

  I smell burning chlorine, hope it’s just the Middle East.
  

  They’re only being civil, it’s not for us to intervene –
  

  so sell your bombs to despots,
  

  sell your guns to kids,
  

  arm and justify the terrorists,
  

  and tell me lies about domestic security. 
  

  
  

  Where were you at the time of the crime,
  

  when the power was ceased to appease the far right?
  

  Edging your bets with a soft Remain –
  

  so now jingle jangle jingoism,
  

  soapbox, tubthump for the middle,
  

  point at those who you say meddle,
  

  tell me lies about the European Union.
  

  
  

  You put your election date in,
  

  you put your bomb posters out, 
  

  you find your major donors,
  

  spread your tax breaks about…
  

  
  

  So confuse me with some Latin, 
  

  correct my kids with grammar,
  

  let them have a damn good thwacking,
  

  give my land away for fracking,
  

  champion hunts and rule the waves,
  

  start and end for all in Wargrave.
  

  Change the boundaries,
  

  change the rules,
  

  repeat, repeat, repeat untruths,
  

  give me déjà vu.
  

  Fill me full of fudge
  

  and tell me lies about obesity,
  

  tell me lies about child poverty
  

  with the central lie of a strong economy,
  

  tell me lies about the National Health
  

  and the newfound international wealth,
  

  tell me lies about political stability, 
  

  tell me lies about our increased security,
  

  tell me lies about your political adversaries,
  

  make this island hostile territory… to the truth. 
  

  
  

  Tell me lies about your motivation
  

  for listening to our conversations.
  

  Are you listening, Mrs May? 
  

  Are you listening?
  

  
  

  Tell me lies about everything.