You've got to catch me first...


Don't ..tell me:  you're a comrade,
In the present never ending struggle;
Don't tell me you've a vote to cast,
As I wash in an oil spill puddle.

Don't tell me you feel safer,
Knowing where your goods can be bought;
As I die within your concrete mass,
Or you threaten me, for your liberation sport.

Don't tell me you've an 'our' to kill;
Don't tell me there's a compromise to fill;
Don't tell me that there's suffering,
And you're safely set to work against it.

Don't tell me to come within;
That you'll protect me while you grin;
Don't listen to my call for help,
If all you're going to do is genuflect, or take my pelt.

Don't tell me of the saviour;
Don't tell me of the laws of general safety;
I've met one of his lieutenants,
And ended up doing mindless penance.

Don't tell me of the pain of a cross;
That it was chosen, was not loss;
Don't tell me of the cruelty of humans,
Fought against, by new fascist unions.

Don't tell me of development of reason,
Parallel to pogrom season;
Don't tell me of collapsing walls,
While victims still pace 'close-containment' corridors and halls.

Don't tell me there's an iota of sense,
In regulated traffic of euros or pence;
Don't tell me that you need protecting,
No doubt my prison cloth looks rather fetching..

Don't snigger as you run towards your shackle,
Don't bleed, unless it raise my hackle:

I may chase past you; you may defecate in fear as I pass;
You may elsewise turn to defend; I may go on into the further

And you may face the paranoia,
Of your ever-backward glance.

Don't.         Tell me!                                                         
                                                                         Jimtom say!..