‘Big Match Vibe’

 

Image credit: Radhitha Ravihansa Sooriyagoda

Expat pundits, grievance peddlers, farts of the old elite!

This is not your moment; your moment never is.

Take your stinking possets and placebos

Brewed in well-lit comfort far from tear-gas

And neck them down yourselves. I hope you choke.

On the barricades there is no wealth of choices,

Only opportunities to seize as they arise

And only just the single issue, darling: Arseholes Out.

You hate it, don’t you, that your well-worn saddle

No longer fits the hobbyhorse you rode?

Your misanthropy wrapped in worthy causes,

Your social-media fame for being woke,

Now trumped by something not at all suburban –

Something real that’s happening to us –

But not to you, still cozy in your bubble

Telling other people what to do.

 

When the dust has settled and the dead are buried,

All the gas-queue martyrs laid to rest,

You’ll spin your noble part in it on Facebook

Though you were fucking Jonah, pal, at best.