You can pronoun the shit out of the situation but you can still be wrong,
and you’ll be made to understand that you have been so wrong.
You can apologise and yet be classed as ignorant, no room for manoeuvre.
You can be anything but right. You’re white, therefore you’re wrong.
You can protest but that’s violence: there’s a lawsuit on the way.
You have hip friends, young and interesting,
They depart with each word you say.
You studied feminism yet you’re sexist
Cos you dare challenge the new convention.
Even though the old one needed toppling
You expressed doubt that it needed upgrading.
Rather, you screamed, it needed changing
A new direction, post-instituition.
But it got lost in all and sundry:
the dreaded irony?
You die the one that wanted dialogue.
© The Hairy Teacher, March, 2018
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