I think this is an example of a particular kind of poem, the poem of paranoia about THEM. Except that paranoia is not quite the word, is it? Be advised that THEY are certainly out to get you. Indeed, have no doubt, if they have not succeeded already, they certainly will.
What can the writer do? Well, Ian Hislop, the revered author of Private Eye, a British magazine that specialises in scurrilous gossip about politicians (JUST the sort of magazine we need I can tell you), characterised The Public as people trapped in a huge vat with shit being thrown on them from above by the rich and powerful. The mushroom principle, if you know the old joke. Every now and again The Public (in the guise of Private Eye) get to throw some back. I think I accept a lot of this characterization of the world we live in.
But poet are not journalists so what can we do. We can write shapely, perfect poems like this. I have written some myself, but none better than this example. I particularly like the way it more than hints that you are to blame Be assured, you are.
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