A thatcher is someone who
makes a roof
or used to, when things were
quieter,
was someone who sheltered
people
from the rain, when things
were quieter.
A thatcher took folks from
the wind
and layered the skin of a
human weather.
Now a thatcher exposes the
dwellers,
rips off the roof in the
skinning wind,
hurls down the roof on the
dwellers,
who for cover snatch at the
straws
the roof-maker rains
on their rainwashed heads
ruthlessly
and in their teeth and in
their eyes
like a war
that the thatcher unnaturally
makes
on the dwellers. And the luckier
snatching more straw cover of
the undoing
thatch, despise the
unluckier, the colder ones.
so that some see but many don’t
or do see but not why, and
think it
the way of a brave wise
thatcher
that their fellows are icy
and cold
in an inhuman country.
Published in Virago’s Let’s Pretend, 1984- even before the
miners’ strike and the poll tax horror.
She was a politician who,
egged on by her Tory big-business chums, swept away the post-war values of
community I knew and took for granted. For all its faults, pre-Thatcher Britain had
some genuine belief in equality, destroyed in the 80s by Tory governments,
replaced by City greed, and we all know the result- EXCEPT that the bankers
haven’t been dragged kicking and screaming back into a sense of public service.
They must be, if we are ever to get something back of that lost sense of fair
play which even older Tories had.
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