POST-WAR NEW ORDER

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 8, Issue 13, 3 October 1944, Page 3

POST-WAR NEW ORDER

Don't make, an} 7 plans for the future, There are experts to do that for you With blue-prints, galore And a very large store Of ideas and edicts —brand new. The food control, it is lovely It getsi better and better da)'. There's Manpower farming So there's' nothing alarming— For the herds arc all dwindling away! For they plan to go growing mushrooms •J' Where once grew potatoes & maize,, And you may go to bed— (So the. Bed Board has said), When a form you've, filled in for the day's. When you sit down at last to your breakfast, After washing—(Rule 3IiB) Don't eat all your egg To remind jou I beg That the shell must be saved up for tea. You open your own daily paper., The news Avon't delay you for long. The pages are blank, Some censorship crank JHas decided that reading is, wrong. You bid farewell to your dear ones, In the. manner prescribed by the code, Namely "Greetings One B, Paragraph One Seven Three," And then push out on the road. You are pushing a. small filing cab,inct •y flt's on wheels the Transport does state. You take out a file ■» That's marked "Transport'' and while, The Inspector goes, through it. —you wait. The next train in seventeen minutes, Is going the. opposite way, But 3 r ou board it because 1 Your priority was Marked ''Down" and not "Up" for today. You alight at a small wayside station 'J To drink with a friendly man, But an edict is out Which forbids you to "shout'' Though you don't even know of the ban. The stranger is really a "snooper," Though he was so obscure and unknown Within half an hour He weilds so much power That into a dungeon you're thrown. You're guilt)'' although they can't prove it, On that point clear, And no hope, remains With justice in chains^ And 3 r ou are. not tried for a year. You'd be freed if you swore that jour father Had failed to pay taxes last year In Ireland they're shot, But Socialism says "Rot! Informers are. heroes out here." You die and tell Peter your story He dispatches 3 r ou straight down below, I You start with surprise^ Then 3 r ou read in his eyes— The answer "Kitoa" 3'on know. (With apologies to "Aussie"). W. RRADSHAW.