two lovers entwined, pass me bye bye bye

the world stops

in the heart of the city

a queen

big ideas throbbing

in her teased quiff

an ex-first

lady in a wheelchair

her words fly

above the head of the crowd

a celebrity activist

her hair wet from patchouli

and sweat

of 11 a.m.

her left leg limping

from a kick

right in the knee

from an army sergeant

when she was twenty-three

she should be in a wheelchair too

but she limps along

slowly

on a single crutch

that makes a lake

of black sweat

on the cheap green polyester

under her left arm

people think she’s a hero

you can hear them whispering

“i saw her in berlin,

when she had to run away

to the safety

of a first-world country.”

other people sit

on imaginary benches

on the side of the street

keeping watch

on a pygmy’s idea

of a newsagency

cigarette stall

candy shop

and white crosses

scribbled with slogans

supporting ‘unity

in diversity’ abandoned

like new gravestones

after burial

after all the rites have been administered

like now

and then i see

a girl

her t-shirt wet

from the monkey rain

five minutes ago

her finger stabbing

the air

in the direction

of her boyfriend

whose hands

half-outstretched

look like puppets’ hands

and when he shrugs his shoulders

i half-expect

to see two white strings

(to go with the colour of the sky)

move up in the air

that the girlfriend

now scythes

with her little white cross

the boyfriend ducks

and the cross

falls to the ground

as the girlfriend lifts herself

up

into the car.

easter