A red carpet of happiness from the Tube to Trafalgar Square
There’s dancing and prancing I’m drinking warm cava
With strangers who are grinning ear to ear smiles
My face starts to ache as I return the gurning
To people who have waited a long time to party
The enemy within rejoices as we pass round the gin
Her death a tonic for the troops who never really disbanded  
No invitation required just the delight at her passing
The majestic lions upon their plinths some said were heard purring  
Collective joy is intoxicating as we recount our reasons for hating
How do I hate thee 24 hours in a day is not enough to count the ways
You sold a generation down the river but we are paddling still
Contracted out our dreams to the lowest bid
So greed was the only industry left standing
You privatised our potential
And sowed the seeds that now make the NHS wither
My slow breathing in deep sleep in deepest slumber
Is deeper still knowing that you are without respiration
Contentment is secured with the absence of a beat in your barren heart
The spring sun will never warm the winter of your face
Air that I breathe made sweeter as it shares not your exhalation
Innocent soil had the misfortune to nestle your coffin
And shuddered flinching at its polluting descent
Should the earth still pardon our sins and continue to rotate
A small recompense for the dreams that she stole
Is that in a million years from now she will be turned into coal

This is about the party we all had in Trafalgar Square on Saturday April 13, 2013 to celebrate the demise of Margaret Thatcher.

Poetry on the Picket Line is a squad of like-minded poets putting themselves about to read their work on picket lines, in the spirit of solidarity. Invitations to rallies etc. welcome, contact facebook.com/pg/PicketLinePoets. The new Poetry on the Picketline anthology is available at culturematters.org.uk http://www.culturematters.org.uk/index.php/shop-support/our-publications...