Hoovers or Hammers?

Stressed. Emergency situation.  Needed a new hoover. Couldn’t afford a brand new one. Thought I’d search on eBay.

Then a man knocked on my door.

“Looking for a vacuum cleaner by any chance, sir?”

“Yeah. How do you know?”

“I work for GCHQ, Project Prism. I know everything. I know you’ve just moved into this flat. I know the previous tenants were here for thirteen years and left a right tip. I know you want a cheap machine that’ll do a good job- and I’ve got just the one for you.”

Now, I don’t usually entertain intrusive government agents- but I was desperate.

I took the hoover and got to work. He told me it would pick up all dust, debris, crumbs and cobwebs within a flash. Have everything back to normal. In no time, show time!

But it was like a wild pitbull off its leash.

It sucked up every last thing: my furniture, my electricals, food in my cupboards (although in return it spat out some food bank vouchers).

Sucked up savings in my shoebox, my mother’s wheelchair; sucked up books I needed for studying at university- now to replace them it will cost me thrice as much.

with a bag. It used some wizard like technology which magically sent everything it sucked into the vaults of the world’s investment banks.

I looked in the box for th

Sucked up the medicine for my chronic condition, even my Polish wife’s passport and the doctor’s note which signed me off work; then it started revving its greedy arse up and down the streets of the country sucking up all social housing. Even threatened to suck up the mosques I pray in and the Islamic school my brother studies at.

I tried to open up the bag, get all my stuff back out.  But the hoover never came

e instruction manual to see what the wizardry was. It was printed in capital letters: NEO-LIBERALISM.  There was a little hand written note on a post-it on the back of the manual. It simply said: You’ve been RBSd: Royally Bitch Slapped!

I used a hammer to smash the hoover to pieces. No manufacturer, whatever the colour of their brand, be it red, yellow or purple, should get away with making such a hoover again.

It wasn’t just any old hammer I picked up. Though it had no branding, etched in small letters on the left side were the words: Made in Solidarity.

Now, every night before I sleep I ask myself- what will win the soul of the land: hoovers or hammers?

Hamish Kamoshi © 2015

Propagandist Chauffeurs

Not much time left to prevent your mind’s theft

smash and grab out there, it’s a crime fest

like strong winds they want to hurry Kane

to slay his own brother so the money’s gained

anaesthetic in the air they are numbing brains

taking food off the table only crumbs remain

with rich man’s greed every slum is stained

find a scapegoat, who do you wanna blame?

the sick and disabled and the immigrants?

politicians making criminals out of innocents

stealing with prosthetic hands, avoiding fingerprints

we’ve lost sight of truth cos we’re in the midst

of propagandist chauffeurs, driving us to nightmares

shutting schools down, opening Starbucks there

caffeine overload; no sleep so no dreams

of a future where every child sings instead of screams

Hamish Kamoshi © 2014