Monday, 30 January 2017

poetry 2017 / 023

Grate Agin

I don't want to go
to your party of dickheads
and smackheads and blokes
with their hands on their cock
and spouting their rhetoric
of privilege, privation
illegalisation of being a poof
or a queer or a faggot
and setting agendas to stop people coming
because their religion ain't baptist white male
(except for the places you're still making money
like Turkey and Saudi and UA of E)
and citing the shootings by Muslims and Niggers
while rejecting the figures of kills by your friends.
The scrubbing of websites,
Denials of Service,
Preventing planned parenthood
burning the world.
I don't want your garbage,
your privatisation,
your fascist remarks
or your fucking big wall.
If we live through the winter,
the spring and the summer,
then Old Orange Dumpty
can have a Great Fall.

No comments: