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Reblogged by cstanhope@social.coop ("Your friendly 'net denizen"):
brianbilston@mastodon.online ("Brian Bilston") wrote:
Here’s a poem called ‘As I Grow Old I Will March Not Shuffle’.
Attachments:
- As I Grow Old I Will March Not Shuffle As I grow old I will not shuffle to the beat of self-interest and make that slow retreat t o t h e r i g h t. 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. (remote)
- 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. Brian Bilston (remote)
