Ron's rages are sincere and — according to his wife — healthily cathartic. But can these splenetic outbursts loosen the grip of capitalism at its most monstrous?
As Pete Shelley sang, Boredom
is counter-revolutionary.
Run, Leithers! The old world is behind you!
Expel the policeman from your head.
All power to the Imagination!
The landlords are homeless.
The bankers’ laments are derivative
of songs whose time has run out.
The corporate lawyers plead guilty
on behalf of their clients.
We are realists. We only demand the Impossible!
We will organise sit-ins in your souls, occupations
in the margins of your ledgers.
When the last neoliberal is strangled with the last copy of the Daily Mail
When the Granton campus dreamers twin with Gaza’s colonised streets
When the last establishment entryist is exposed
When the spectacle’s final reel unspools in nude ignominy
the noonday underground will emerge from its slumbers.
by Rosie Jackson
ANDY CROFT welcomes the publication of an anthology of recent poems published by the Morning Star, and hopes it becomes an annual event
by Christopher Norris
The Bard commutes to work for the first time in 45 years


