About three weeks ago like a fool

I injured my back picking up a bag of soil

The next day I went to a football match

Where I stood rather still for nearly two hours

I walked home that day as the buses were poor

And after about a mile became aware

That I was limping as my back was hurting a great deal

I was leaning to the left which haunted me

And stopped when people passed by

As I like to be seen as a strong man

There were posters on the brick walls

Protesting about all things petty

I tore them down as I cared little

For their causes full stop full stop .

If my family had owned slaves in the past

Then so be it as it was a historical detail

One cannot change history that is obvious

Why were people getting so upset about this

It did not make sense

No sense at all

It was as I limped under a railway bridge

That I noticed some yobs attacking an effeminate guy

In a strange way this afforded me pleasure

So I encouraged them with my indifference

I question my actions but felt no guilt

My back was hurting and I was angry

Really fucking angry

Yet I still had the strength to remove the posters

As they annoyed me so much

I dislike identity politics

As I can see their roads clearly

Others cannot see this

What cunts they are

I was nearing a main road

When I found a kitten in the gutter

It had been caught by a car and was dazed

And although it was difficult I picked it up

The kitten was so soft and trusting

And before I knew it I was weeping

All my pain both physical and mental was leaving me

A woman who was carrying a Mondrian poster

Came up to me and enquired of my grief

She was also crying

I told her that with love

The kitten would recover

She invited me into her red brick house

We shared a cup of mint tea

She gave the kitten some milk

Which was accepted happily

Margaret was her name

(I was Martin)

Margaret said that her husband was in prison

As he had beaten a migrant to death

I asked her whether his actions were justified

She said that he would do it again

Was there a reason for this violence

It was enough that the man had invaded these shores

I admired her poster and she told me that it was her treat

As she had killed someone herself with a stolen axe

To carry on her husbands good work

Was I shocked

No

Would I do the same

That is a question that I could not answer

I said that the order was breaking down

And that violence would become more common

They go hand in hand

Did I think ill of her

No

It was all black and white

There were no grey areas

She later enquired of my painful injury

I noted that it would go in time

But it made me angry

I could blame no one but myself

But I blamed all who offended me

We both then prayed for the kitten

Which was asleep on a white cushion