This poem was first published on 24 February 2014. We are re-presenting it this week as part of our resistance special.
I travel south on my northern shrike.
I swoop to admire the dewdrops on the daphnes,
the white-wire fences,
the kites, swallows, songlarks and nightjars.
I hold a star in my eye and a pistol in my hand.
I don't do what I'm told.