There was a bang and the village lights went out. The electricity board told us later that a goose had flown into a high voltage cable.
Several drowned fleas in the bath: they always climb on board after I have finished combing the cat.
Gil Scott-Heron was wrong. The revolution will be televised, and has been for the last 40 years. Grainy footage, bombs and fires, marching freedom fighters.
Then the bullets fly.
All the readers keep quiet, there is never any feedback. Revolutionary nostalgia is rife.
‘Underground classic’, ‘cult classic’, ‘dangerous and visionary’: it is unreadable and failed to sell.
He would never give us permission to reprint his anarchist poems but now he is dead.
I type them out and post them online. It is the least I can do.
© Rupert M Loydell