A Better Class Of Unemployment Support

Given half a chance I could be nostalgic
about the past, but what I have to look back on
is a family that sounded self important
when they lied by rote about a past
that had more gaps in it than glory. 

Then there is the imitation of affection
for the town's oldest and most used buildings
where the modern imitator had no use
for the lives of the humans of yore,
who once made the building seem vital
for the town that they are no longer part of.

Last and least there is the mis-accounting
for changes of names of government departments
where the processes named remained the same
but the name change made the process seem more plastic.

My favourite in this was when The Labour Exchange
went from being a scuzzy hidden hole-in-a-wall room
understaffed by shifty looking middle aged men
to being The Job Centre, a place where the staff
were better dressed, got half empty filing cabinets
and desks to hide behind, where the jobs that applicants
resisted applying for, and dummy notices, became easier
to find on walls that made cynicism about the lack
of local opportunity a much more satisfying endeavour.