The local MP came to visit today.
He played with his tie, in the half-empty boiling hot working class room.
Nobody offered him water.
He looked outside at the summery breeze and chewed his nails for an hour or so.
I tried to think of a question.
But all of them were already answered.
He paused and smiled at the camera.
I had a name-tag around my neck.
He had nothing.
I sat on a tree-legged small plastic chair.
He sat on a piece of cake.
Photograph: @John Stadnicki
Tomorrow will come with a sunny spell,
the rain will stop at the border so
we will begin the long-waited rebellion,
as they say,
at the right moment.
To satisfy our need for greatness,
we will politely ask the just questions and
sit on the pew
in return for the hand-written answer.
We will finally go home,
or so we believe,
to master the only remedy left for pain – patience.
Photograph: @John Stadnicki, ‘Street Cafe’