An anti-establishment poem is on the loose
spraying itself onto institution walls and
spitting rhymes on radio in Lee Kuan Yew’s dead voice,
hazing parliament with clouds of controversy and
oozing out from between cashmere carpets and marble tiles
to slip up anyone in couture shoes.
The anti-establishment poem doesn’t proclaim The Man.
The Man is also The Woman.
They wear braces and blouses and a rainbow beard,
holding anti-establishment parties in derelict boardrooms
for people without Facebook accounts.
They live for weeks on the benches of Fort Canning Park,
illegally busking on Bugis Street with thrash metal guitar.
Last Friday they were discovered at 4.20pm
replacing frozen mcnuggets in a mcdonald’s outlet with bags of organic tofu
then they turned into a thrift store copy of Das Kapital and exploded in flames.
Later they were seen leaving chocolate-coloured handprints on CBD sliding doors
which upon forensic assessment were made from neither earth nor paint.
Interpol officers say that they have identified the parents of the poem,
a radical activist homosexual couple living in Geylang.
When asked about the whereabouts of the poem, the parents said
“When they were a child, crafting recycled paper-chains of Martin Luther King quotes,
they would only ever sit in the leftmost corner of the classroom.
Maybe you should try looking there.”
Look out for dirty footprints in department stores.
Look out for bomb blasts or a too-loud voice.
Look out for an unregistered person in speakers corner.
Look out for peace signs or strange-smelling cigarette smoke,
Look out for drums during Hindu processions.
Look out for a ringleader amongst riotous SBS drivers.
Look out for gay library books in the library.
Look out for unapologetic heartland curry.
Look out for seditious viral youtube videos.
Stay vigilant. Stay alert. Protect your position.
Report any suspicious activity.
Do the right thing. Or the wrong thing.
The poem only gives a shit on establishment floors.