Happy Bonfire Night

Remember, remember
The Fifth of November.
Where, on a cold Autumn night,
people stand, and watch, as a man
is burnt and fireworks let off.

Happy Bonfire Night.

The fireworks, where a high-pitched whizz
and then a loud, low bang have many gather
and watch as they light up the sky.

Happy Bonfire Night.

The sparklers, fireworks on a stick. Given to
children as a safer way to get up close.
If only they knew what they were really
celebrating.

Happy Bonfire Night.

Britain. 21st century. A nation that prides
itself on how multi-cultural it is. A
nation that prides itself on tolerance
and the rights of its fellow man.

Happy Bonfire Night.

If this image is true. If this self-
-righteous image of the little, damp,
mongrel nation being the centre of
the world is true. How come, in the
modern age, we burn effigies of a man
all around the country.

Happy Bonfire Night.

We are celebrating not success
We are celebrating not equal rights
We are celebrating not tolerance
We are dancing around a fire

We are celebrating torture
We are celebrating failure
We are celebrating death.

We are celebrating death.

Happy bonfire night.

Remember, remember.
The fifth of November.
Not for the fireworks.
Not for the sparklers.
Or equal rights, success, tolerance.
Remember, remember
The fifth of November.
Remember, remember
the monsters we are.