June 27, 2019
Transactivist by Ash Brockwell
My new poem, ‘Transactivist’:
I thought that I was innocent,
I don’t quite understand,
The Times has bought my story and
It’s all got out of hand.
I’m now the public enemy,
It doesn’t make much sense:
I’m fairly sure my only crime
Is peeing in the Gents.
But now they’re blaming me, they say,
for this destructive fashion
Of listening to children and
of showing them compassion,
For sex and gender are the same,
as bigots all agree:
If anyone thinks differently,
they’re catching it from me!
It’s all my fault when little girls
refuse to play princesses,
And boys throw out their footballs
and insist on wearing dresses.
‘It won’t end there,’ they darkly mutter,
while inventing dramas
Of schools where half the pupils
now identify as llamas.
They claim I’ve barged in spaces
where I clearly don’t belong,
Denied the truth of science
and just can’t admit I’m wrong:
A pervert and a criminal,
I thrive on starting fights,
I’ve trespassed in the swimming pool
and torn up women ‘s rights.
They’ ve let me have my way, they say,
for far too long already:
I’ve undermined society
until it’s quite unsteady,
Contaminated toilets
with my trans-infested breath,
And dealt the Patriarchy blows
that may yet cause its death.
They say they know the truth at last:
They’ve found out my agenda
Of causing floods and killing God
and redefining gender.,
And – here’s the worst –
annihilating nature as we know it!
There’s nothing more that I can do…
…Except become a poet.
Nathan AM Smith said,
June 27, 2019 at 8:52 pm
Great ending!!