After the long hot summer of rioting
with cities in flames
Bristol
Liverpool
Birmingham
Nottingham
and the rest
we thought we’d have one too.
On St. Giles Estate
four boys scaled a roof
to let off fireworks no one saw.
It was mid-afternoon.
In the City Centre
around 4 pm
there was evidence of language
almost-chants of ‘fuck the pigs’
and on street drinking.
An unwisely parked police van
with a mouthy future Councillor
who’d leapt inside mid-ruck
fearing for his safety
after shouting
‘go home ruffians!’
was rocked about a bit and almost rolled.
There was minor scuffling
and major jostling.
Arrests were made
mostly for appearances sake.
A few suspended sentences
a binding-over. Enough to satisfy
and energise the local press
(always sticklers for the truth)
who splashed in 25 point bold
words and phrases
they’d been itching to for years
‘anarchy’
‘flashpoint’
‘disaffected youth’

Published by colinhopkirk
Poet, writer, artist. Writing and performing in England, publishing anywhere. Member of Hexameter performing poets. Workshops, projects, cross-arts collaborations.
View more posts