It’s not because
I’m mad ‘cos I’m bad it is because I
am bad that I’m mad.”
There
was rapturous applause. He bowed. We were going to have a party and dance with
each other. The room was very noisy, a lot of clattering as the hollow stereo
sound blared out pop, reggae, jazz and classical music. There was no set theme
to the gathering other than ‘having a party’.
The psychologist was there he sat in a corner cross legged with a glass
of orange juice by his side and a notepad and pencil. He occasionally tapped
his cross legged feet to a different beat to what was actually being played. We
noticed. Angelina sat in the middle of the room and rocked backwards and
forwards. She rocked when the music played. She rocked when the music stopped
like a metronome. The others formed a ring around her and danced around her as
we perceived lunatics would do. We all laughed and had a very good time.
The sun arose in
a windowless room. I pursued the Ghetto downtown. I chose to live In Peckham
not Peckham in me. I live in the Peckham stars high up in the night sky. As
siren vibrations of police cars are calling and asking why oh why oh why! Oh
why howling
voices of the night of children displaced and out of sight.
From reality as
they bay their way towards first light.
I tightly shut
my eyes to guard my sanity
Yet I cannot
shut out what is bright.
My Landlord came
round to see me and asked me for the rent I am afraid I cannot help for yes it
has been spent.
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