Debt

We, the dutiful emasculates,
Stifled under the growing
Interest rates and late payment fees,
Attached to Government approved
Remortgage and relending schemes
Shiver in the cold light of insolvency.
To me, the need, to break through to
The place beyond
The consolidated glass ceiling.
Somewhere without the demands
Of incessant scrimping and saving.

The apparatus of debt:
The bills, the calls,
The men in suits knocking on the doors,
Walking down halls,
Coming at dawn
Like a Financial Gestapo,
Don’t mean a thing
As the women on the other side
Of the call centre divide will
Agree a fee free payment plan
To get you back on your feet.
For a while at least.

But, we work, the hours
Pass and the salary
Is gratefully received
As we strain to believe
That after tax we can almost
Reach the idyll –
The solvency dream.
The Dàil takes more,
Two percent won’t hurt,
Unless your working class or poor,
But are we, you and me, love,
What are we?

Debt accrues debt
And they pile on each other,
You work to pay one
And then there is another,
It’s not that I am
Not happy.
Far from it really.