As I grow old
I will not shuffle to the beat
of self-interest
and make that slow retreat
to the right.
I will be a septuagenarian insurrectionist
marching with the kids. I shall sing
‘La Marseillaise’, whilst brandishing
homemade placards that proclaim
‘DOWN WITH THIS SORT OF THING’.
I will be an octogenarian obstructionist,
and build unscalable barricades
from bottles of flat lemonade,
tartan blankets and chicken wire.
I will hurl prejudice upon the brazier’s fire.
I will be a nonagenarian nonconformist,
armed with a ballpoint pen
and a hand that shakes with rage not age
at politicians’ latest crimes,
in strongly-worded letters to The Times.
I will be a centenarian centurion
and allow injustice no admittance.
I will stage longstanding sit-ins.
My mobility scooter and I
will move for no-one.
And when I die
I will be the scattered ashes
that attach themselves to the lashes
and blind the eyes
of racists and fascists.
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Wonderful, inspiring. And so full of hope and life. Thank you for the future.
Thank you!
Donald Trump belongs in a mental institute specializing in the treatment of the criminally insane.
as do those who continue to support him…
Brian, this sums up my daughter’s mother-in-law to a tee. She died recently, aged 90!!
Sorry for your loss. She must have been a remarkable woman!
My Grandad passed away at the age of 90 recently, he was known for his strong moral compass and was so passionate about politics. He loved your work, this poem sums him up so well and I’m reading it at his funeral tomorrow. Thank you so much for what you do!
So sorry to hear about your Grandad. He sounds like someone who inspired and someone to aspire to. Hope the funeral goes as well as these things can.