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I do not belong to your blue-striped tribe,
Your angry flag and face paint appal me –
I bow out from your club, I unsubscribe.
I’ll not be brought round by a shabby bribe,
I cancel my membership permanently –
I do not belong to your blue-striped tribe.
Don’t worry, there’ll be no diatribe
About this, I’ll just leave my place empty
As I bow out from your club, unsubscribe.
But let’s just say your xenophobic vibe
Offends my global sensibility –
I do not belong to your blue-striped tribe.
Whatever it is that we each imbibe
It’s of a very different chemistry –
So I bow out from your club, unsubscribe.
While some succumb to what you proscribe,
The crumbs are stale, the roses thorny –
I do not belong to your blue-striped tribe,
I bow out from your club, I unsubscribe.
Alan Morrison’s most recent poetry collection is Anxious Corporals. He lives in Bognor Regis. 21st-century Poetry is edited by Andy Croft, email [email protected]
