Dear Younger Me
It wasn't your fault.
You were born
in a different age
by a father raised
by the war,
by nationalism,
by bombs planted on
underground trains
in inner-city buses.
Television preached
racism by default
Love Thy Neighbour,
Rising Damp
and the xenophobia of
Dad's Army.
Even Monty Python was
devoid of colour
and Dad refused to
watch It Ain't Half Hot, Mum
so you watched it in
secret,
recorded on Betamax
cassettes and
appreciated the
inclusion of queer and transgender
(though the terms were
never used
and 'difference' was
relegated to 'poofter').
It is any wonder you
fell in love
with gay boys and trans
girls and your freedom
in New English Punk
wasn't about racism
but about inclusion –
a rejection
of the right wing
domination;
of Enoch Powell and I'm
Backing Britain,
and the disgust on your
father's face
when he found you in
bed with that black lad.
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