I wipe my arse on the flag

I wipe my arse on the flag

because it’s just an ocker rag,

a symbol of arse-licking

and brown-nosing dictators

and the colours are wrong,

the colours of empire and subservience.

I wipe my arse on the flag

because it was wrapped around Pauline

and it’s always over Howard’s shoulder,

because 350 people who drowned trying to get here

were deemed unworthy of its protection.

I wipe my arse on the flag

because it flutters over desert concentration camps

and prisons full of young black men

and corporate towers exalting cold hard capital.

I wipe my arse on the flag

because I like the feel

of the union jack in my crack.