The flags snap in the wind, the whispered breath
that steals the words and whickers, horse and knight.
The fires mutter and crack in dying light
and breaths from noses mist, steal proof from death.
And here am I, rose up from lowly whore,
shown faces smashed by hooves, shown strength in spades.
They say that I'm half stupid and half brave,
and I'm the ass that rode myself to war.
I'll hunch my shoulders, barrel to the front
and smash into the devils as my right.
I hope they flee, they piss themselves in fright.
I hope I never pull the bloody stunt
of cracking bones. I hope my hooves are pure.
I am the ass whose burden will endure.
* * *
The baby magpie calls at dawn to feed.
The wind knocks down a sign. Sounds like a gun.
Don't call it hate – say that the fascists won.
Say truth. We're all to blame for our misdeeds,
for drinking wine while others die of thirst.
The birds in cages call out to the free
and I wish I was anyone but me.
I'll fight, but I'll run off and cry some first,
for all the hopes we had, for all the lies
that we're all brothers. Even brothers ain't.
The ballot sullies even holy saints,
confounds the stupid and the very wise.
I'll fight, but first I'll write a while and weep,
and cry knives, pluck my eyes out, and I'll sleep.
* * *
Your neighbours are at war with you, you know.
Their gardens flower brightly as their hate.
So quietly they try to seize the state,
spin it awry, knocked to their hateful flow.
I'm just a poet, no Cassandra me,
no screaming pilot voice to steer us clear.
I've frankly shat myself just from the fear
I've got here just in time to be unfree,
a howling zombie harnessed to the hate.
She died, I sobbed, and puffy eyed I worked
and mumbled bullshit to the random jerk
that hired me. Then I wept, and slept, and ate.
And while I sleep the hate and gardens grow.
Your neighbours are at war with you, you know.
Red Wedge is currently raising funds to attend the Historical Materialism conference in London this November. If you like what we do and want to see us grow, to reach greater numbers of people and help rekindle the revolutionary imagination, then please donate today.
Margaret Corvid is a feminist, socialist, sex worker rights activist and dominatrix. She is a contributing editor for Salvage, blogs for the New Statesman and appears regularly in the Guardian and The Establishment. She punishes the naughty at MistressMagpie.com.