Writing Under The Regime
by Belinda Roddie
If I scribble controversial stances
in the shadows, where no one can see
me, and no one can censor me - if
I whisper in your ear the monologues
that can no longer be enunciated on
a stage - if I offered you a crudely made
home video of a romance, or adventure,
or political scheme that would be deemed
too offensive for the powers that be to air
to the mad masses - would you watch it?
Would you hear it? Would you take the time
to read my scratchings on the bedroom walls
and letters left in abandoned performance halls?
Would you spray paint my message on bathroom
stalls and take photos for posterity? If I can't
have an audience under this new regime, with
their hounds of Hell nipping at the ankles
of the artists who remember the days when
we were free, then will you at least be there,
with me, and listen to my story?