Baby Talk

Wake, little one, or free enterprise freaks
will efface all that makes you human.
Break, little one, from the geeks of newspeak,
who seek only to master the student.
Shirk, little one, those jingled amusements,
their delusions so cosy and soft.
Swerve, little one, the popular movements
manoeuvring routes to the trough.
Spurn, little one, the invisible worms
entrenched in the vents of your brain.
Turn, little one, from the wages they earn,
do not tread the dull round in vain.