Now I’m not Marsha P
And I swear if I could be,
I would wage a war for women that look like and unlike me.
We’re taught to take it on the chin,
Like a manifesto of our skin
Whilst we’re screaming out for picket lines that didn’t want us in.

Did you hear them on the news last night?
More bloodshed on the picket lines
And the journalists chose not to say, what the protest was for.

The Prime Minister is murmuring
Same shit about austerity,
And they’re blurring out the hashtags and the name of the war.

And it violates the community guidelines on the websites,
So they’re taking down our artwork and our language for good measure.
And they say that it’s for our own good, let’s not instigate civil unrest,
But the lack of a single statement becomes the Cabinet’s grandest gesture.

Wish I was more like Marsha P,
Putting myself on the line
To create liberation for bodies that look like and unlike mine.
We’re taught to take it on the chin,
Like a manifesto of our skin
Whilst we’re screaming out for picket lines that didn’t want us in.

­spoken: Darling, I want my gay rights now! I think it’s that time that the gay brothers and sisters got their rights! I have no interest in getting in a job as long as this country discriminates against homosexuals.

I went to my first pride parade when I was just thirteen years old,
My dad told strangers he was gay ‘cos I was scared they’d guess it was me.
I met a lady in a purple tent, she gave my arms temporary tattoos.
She said, “this is the life you’ve got, even if it’s not the one you’d choose.”

Ten years later I’m out protesting homophobes and growing flowers on small graves.
Maybe greenery will ease the burden
Of all the queer children that nobody saves.
Maybe this time we’ll go up their escalators and play KD in their lobbies
Turn off the AC for a moment, remind them the smell of human bodies.

And maybe everyone will cast their votes and get someone like us behind a screen.
Maybe this time propaganda will subside, and we can remember what democracy means.
And maybe our rainbow might mean liberation again, not just more random stuff they can sell.
But the chances of these maybes are dying, and the corpse of those chances is starting to smell.


Wish I was more like Marsha P,
And if I could be, I swear to God I’d change the world for people like and unlike me.
We’re taught to take it on the chin, like all the years of so-called “sin”,
Whilst we’re screaming out for picket lines, that didn’t want us in.