Social Security

Jayne Fontaine was not to blame

It was surely Auntie Mable

That let the baby crack its head

Under the kitchen table

And as the screams filled up the house

And spilled on to the street

Jayne ran around to garden to

Be sure the first to meet

The neighbours and the gathering throng

So perplexed and concerned

And horrified and angry at

What each in turn then learned.




Oh how could she,  that stupid cow,

Have hit the child so

Vengeance was their foremost thought

Well how was Jayne to know?

The crowd became a mob at once

And pushed the girl aside

Attracted by the wailing then

They forced themselves inside

The kitchen where poor Mable sat

Regretful and forlorn

She rocked the crying infant as

The horde poured out their scorn.




The child was snatched immediately

Passed down the along the line

Mable just didn’t have the words

As the gang became malign

They scragged her by her knitted top

And someone grabbed her hair

They dragged her out into the yard

And set about her there

For she was known, and known to all

As strange and slow of thought

And this was just the excuse that

One or two had sought

To exercise their prejudice

To vent their lack of soul

Punishing abnormality

Was their unstated goal.




But all who joined the baying pack

Cared nothing of the table

As Jayne now tried to fight them back

To protect her Aunty Mabel

Too late, the sniff of spite was in

Those nostrils flared and wide

Jayne’s pleas would be to no effect

Till the excitement would subside

Then one by they ceased their blows

Retired, as each observed

That curled and twisted body had

Received what it deserved.




Silence within the walled surround

Just heavy, laboured breath

Had they metered punishment?

Had they cause a death?

Slowly the silence broke their thoughts

Reason on all’s behalf

Reality then struck them dumb

They heard the baby laugh

Holding on the table leg

Tears they streamed no more

It tottered to the tempting crowd

And fell against the door.




A wail the like they’d never heard

Came charging from that room

The message hit them like a train

Were they wrong to assume?

A look back to where poor Mable lay

Last one to shut the gate

Dismissed how they were suckered in

And how they took the bait

As back to each respective life

To forget, discount, ignore

To blame the Fontaines for their ills

And continue as before.