We don’t have to apologise
or admit being wrong
because we are never wrong,
even when we are,
even when our wrongness
is fluttering from the church roof,
is blaring from loudspeakers on the high street,
is wafting out of every sewer,
we are still not wrong.
Even when we have no arguments
except abuse
and finger-pointing
and defamation
and abuse,
we are still right
and you are wrong,
you are the problem,
not us,
because our beards are greyer than yours,
our bellies and bank accounts fatter,
our farts the aroma of jasmine,
our piss the taste of Dom Perignon.
This village is ours,
not yours.
You don’t belong here,
on our golden one-horsed hill-descending bandwagon,
so clear off!
You are the one who should apologise,
for existing.
