A Sugared Dish
¶ 1
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High in the Sky the angler sits
In smug anticipation
No boundaries now hold back his dream
Of global domination
Across the world his lines are cast
And now he lies in wait.
He’s fishing for the human mind
And football is the bait.
¶ 2
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The Premier League’s a Sugared dish
So swiftly, cleverly bought.
It’s good bait, but he needs some more.
He buys up every sport.
The fish bite. He removes their guts
And leaves one single eye
Fixed on the Sun, Fox News, the game.
One Folk, one State, one Sky.
¶ 3
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The rich elite rake in the cash:
It only flows one way.
The small clubs teeter on the brink
Some pinstriped vulture’s prey.
Developers eye up the grounds
Whole lives are built upon
While Southerners in Man U shirts
Switch televisions on.
¶ 4
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The angler plays Monopoly.
The government connives.
The shoals of fish gorge in the dish
Which brightens up their lives
And Murdoch nears his final dream.
A global superstate
Where minds are caught and minds are set
And football is the bait.
Great words and verse Attila.
And football’s even worse now.