After signing on.

 
Once a week,
after the riots,
100 of us drummed our feet in the signing hall,
the peelers left
and we went back to dreaming.
 
No sanctions, no money stopped,
we had it so good,
the giro skipped.
 
Scoring some fine Rasta Blues,
from the Villa Cross;
always good business,
where Lozells meet Sutton white people
and the feds kept away.
 
Or Alistair,
got a taste for the poppy,
hip, hip hoppy;
never a bad deal,
long way from the Lebanon,
a third world industry,
of time and pity.
 
A spliff a day,
keeps the storms at bay
and everyone's meeting,
in the new herb cafe.

 
~