There’s far more kinds of Lefty than just one.
There’s Marx and Morris, Blanc, Bakunin, Blum,
the Comintern, the Spartakists, the POUM,
St-Just, Zinoviev and Saint-Simon.
The working class may ask how this lot failed it:
so many brands, but nobody is buying.
So why’s the Trot from Trier death-defying?
Well, Marx explained it, ascertained it, nailed it.
The Gradgrinds have their Hueys and Husqvarnas.
A self-sufficient paradise is nice,
(if beri-beri lets you live on rice),
but who will bring bikinis and bananas?
We’re trapped inside the capital machine,
and drip-fed baseball, bingo, Benzedrine.
Categories:
bakunin, satire,
Form: Sonnet