Swan

There's a swan outside my window, in the river. It isn't doing much. It's just swanning around.

If it wants something to eat, it bobs its head down and gets a fish.

If it wants something to do, it swims up and down the river.

It has a bunch of cygnets, and another sex (I presume) of swan. It looks after them.




Inside my window is me. I'm not doing much. I'm too tired after work.

If I want something to eat, I need to prepare it. I also need to buy it from what's left after I've paid for all the other stuff I didn't ask to pay for.

If I want something to do, I haven't got time to make my dinner. Half of what I had has gone to pay for someone swanning around or telling me what to do.

I have a bunch of kids. I pay for them. I don't mind that. Mine. I mind very much that I pay for those that aren't.




I heard on Radio 4 this morning that G4S are getting £160,000 per year. PER CHILD. To fail miserably in looking after them.




Either the swan or I have got the wrong idea.




You tell me.