MANIFESTO

You don’t have to agree

You don’t have to agree with me,
or your father.
You don’t even have to agree
with the gods.

The proof lies in your rebellion
against the power of the authority
that would lord over you
– if you let it.

You don’t have to agree with these few words
or what you imagine they mean
for your own good
– the only good you’ll ever have.

You don’t have to accept

You don’t have to accept
the sun in the morning.
You don’t have to accept
the stars at night.

You don’t have to accept
the scars of words
uttered in your direction.
You don’t even have to attend
the funeral of hopes you used to embrace,

nor love the company
of those who profess to love you,
of those who crave to care,
of those that breathe your name.

You don’t have to accept.

You don’t have to pay

You don’t have to pay attention
to wagtails, butterflies and magpies
in your garden
nor the song of newts, frogs and moths
– symphonic bedfellows.

You don’t have to pay attention
to the call of those who claim
to need your time,
nor the screech of mates, pals and kin
– major keys, minor discords.

You don’t have to attend,
to be present,
to what matters most
to you.

You have your way

You have the power to forget,
the right to deny.

You have the honour to refuse,
the right to be blind.

You have the breath to be echt,
the right to find

your way.