The Politics of Love.

You think we are all white or black.
You think English is best, and white.
Something pure and hard. Manly and defiant.

You claim that free speech means hate speech.

Your food is fear and ignorance, which you pass
around. Eat up, you insist. Swallow hard.
There’s more where that comes from.

You claim free speech for hate speech.

You urge us to defend, dominate and fight.
To disdain and humiliate. Routinely.
Better, kill the Other. Prove ‘superiority’.

You claim free speech as hate speech.

Now power-dressed, suited and aspiring to
public influence and office, on a scale unimagined
in our worst nightmares, you evangelise racism,

homophobia, misogyny. Breed contempt
for disability and the vulnerable. Women,

you mouth, are for babies, housework, duty sex.
Paid employment takes women out of the home,
makes them forget their proper place, their

allotted inferiority and dependence on men
(like you).  Your signature dishes poison longterm.

Free speech morphs into violation.

But we will not do your bidding. We will not
sleepwalk into fascism or conflict, nor back your
advancement and funding from the public purse.

That culling of difference you crave, we will resist.
The desert of the heart you promote will be all yours.
Until the next time you stir, to face our vigilance.

Our enduring and determined love.

Together, and we are many and diverse,
we claim back free speech. To defy hate,
define hope. And enact our loving.

Find yourselves another island.

This one is taken.

 

val walsh / May 2009

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