Anyone else predict a riot?
London, August 2011
To surge, to be part of something
seething, to run where no one runs,
to see men bearing shields fall back
before you, hear above your head
the whack and thrum of rotor blades,
and, as the camera moves in
to frame your close-up, bend and lift
some heavy object which, propelled
by you, will make plate glass explode . . .
can’t think why that might sound like fun
to a boy from an estate, with no job,
no dad, no plans, no place to be, and no
immediate prospect of an interesting
though sadly unpaid internship.