The Good One

By Maya Farmer

There is a certain anger reserved
For the lesbian so good it hurts
Strapping herself against railings
Marching in yellow coats when it's hailing

She can preach all day about climate justice
She can clomp about in Lucy and yak
But that doesn't mean she's not a wanker
That of shit she's not a sack

No matter how many times
She scampers off with Greenpeace
She still leaves behind a trail of women
Drowning in her unwashed grease

But you're not going to not like the post
She's written about climate strikes
You're not going to disagree
With something so morally finite

And she posts the right infographics on her story
She knows how to phrase speeches so she never seems boring
She votes for the right thing in the Instagram poll
She does all these things and yet she's still an arsehole

And you will go to the climate march
With 33,000 people
And you'll watch her stomping through the crowd
King of the castle

Good, just and proud
And you will cower into a corner
Into the creases of your self
Wish hard and fast
That she loved something else

When somebody breaks your heart
You want to pull their personality apart
But you can't
When it's world saving, government blaming good stuff

You can't say fuck Greenpeace
You can't go around doing that kind of preach
You just have to sit there whilst she saves the world
And at every praise of goodness, feel your stomach curl