Earth banks suffer too
as 40,000 cars commute
polluting the tender shoot
while flora struggle to take root
and wildlife runs away.
The porch becomes conservatory
The Porsche and Lamborghini
replace the humble Mini -
discarded glass is shards of shattered sunlight
making way for waves of "workers'" homes -
neo high-spec farmhouses palatially proportioned,
all jammed together, creamed and crammed
on postage-stamp plots, exclusive reclusive clos',
and way beyond the fiscal reach
of your average, non-fiscal worker!
Non-farming bull-barred bankers' families
take up the call, fill in the foraged infill,
So certain senior politicians, disclaiming the rumoured claims,
can still feather-nest and salt away,
fat-cat their way with impunity,
though publand grapevine smoke is seldom without fire.
The local market price of houses soars,
the lion's roar against unfair imbalance
remains unheeded, subjugate to greed,
and all the while we struggle
to summon up the taxes
to harness yet more virgin territory
to feed the need to park our bull-bar cars
and build more houses, pleasure dromes and bars,
all taken from the unsuspecting sea!
A generation of young Islanders, the Guernsey Cream,
unversed in penury, exacerbates the problem,
demands cars at seventeen
and houses not much later,
grows fatter on inflated price of labour
occasioned by the short supply of Mammon fodder:-
Stag nights in St Malo
Weekends La Rochelle
Holidays in Thailand
the sorties to afar;
and I thought that I did well
not having to wait past 28
to purchase my first car!
The young sharp-suited lions
emerge from computer cacophony,
blinking into the light
at one o'clock, converge on pubs,
while distaff counterparts
draw nervously on cigarettes
outside the halls of commerce,
struggling to come to terms
with the quasi-masculinity
of their brash new-found equality.
So why should Guernsey tremble?
we'll always find a way!
queasy but unbowed we stand
out to win the day!
why should we not have houses
standing end to end
so everyone can then enjoy
the suburban English dream?
But I will tell you this, my friend,
that things may not be what they seem,
may not be as they first appear,
for increasing anglicisation
can lead to ruination
and if this does not seem clear
just ask yourself this, my friend,
why do so many of them
want to come and live over here?
Beware the encroaching demon,
he of the white-line junction,
and EC harmonisation;
of local beer now creamy
of atmosphere less dreamy,
of buzz-bars, huge cars,
what next, a burger joint?
Beware the grasp of Mammon,
the talon and the claw,
Take Care! the spiritual famine
from his never-sated craw
will clasp you and contaminate
however much your new-found state
of wealth and social happiness
appears to cover all.
Be aware of past traditions
as they falter in the mist,
the patois moribundity
the new regime's fecundity
too obvious to miss,
but above all, think on this -
the stubborn Guernsey Donkey
is definitely swaying,
in the wrong key
and certainly is wonky.
So please observe your fate
before it is too late -
what would you rather be?
a small, happy, independent, stubborn Donkey
or a large, subjugated, subdued, willing Carthorse?