1
A. Smith came late to rebellion.
And reluctantly.
Grained in milder
Modes of dispute.

A flare at university
All bristles, flirting and pints.
Quickly de-constructed.

His Gran held no truck with revolution.
But why? yielded only
Stop mithering me.
So off he’d go to mither the chickens instead
Who scratched their heads at it all
Chicken or egg indeed!

2
Career promoted no dissidents.
Acres of civil desks kept the unvarnished at bay.
Quite probably there was a policy too,
Plain-English-approved paragraphs,
No dissent here, though gaming
May be permitted, if skilful.

And his knights were as
Fleet as any at the art of smiling warfare.

3
Prosographically speaking
Nothing special.
But slow as oaks grow
Facts re-ordered,
Hair receded.
Explanations sank.
Prostate and Patience wilted.

Something left gleamed
Which a bowler hat
Could not hide,
Tough, un- appeased
Un-afraid.

A. Smith saw through rainbows
And suited reassurance
A world gone crazy.

4
Arise then the activist
A.Smith, buttoned tight in
Facts and placards.
Demands an account from
The crew of shades
Which daily take what’s screwed up
And screw it some more
In pursuit of purposes so byzantine
Moths make playgrounds of them.

Content at first to admit castles
To his clouds, A.Smith threw his
Admin-abilities and swollen protests
Into mining truth, diamonds from dirt
Though in his case rather more dirt than
Diamonds. The more he found the more
His rage grew, until the size of Alaska, it
Spilt with the ice caps.

6
His castles quit their clouds
And took residence in his head
Fortified by statistics and blogging.
Conviction bred collision.

Action directed and so came the day
A.Smith marched against the G8’s
Ordinal inertia
A smile about his step.
He was out,
Speaking out, citizen to the ramparts.
It felt good. He knew no-one there
But all seemed kin and smile lit smile.

7
The centre of the city was his arena
Ancient walls eyed him.
Came the police cordon,
Quiet at first, uniform measures,
few shields, hardly a riot.

More came and more till A.Smith could
Almost touch the blue hem,
Which was his undoing,
For, exercising proportionate
And appropriate force
(For the public must be protected
At all costs),
PC 1012 Warman drew his baton.

Baton and Smithy head clapped
Sick feet buckled, body swayed
SPC 1414 Hardman saw aggression
Struck thrice, regulation-wise,
And A.Smith found the pavement
Suddenly a firm friend.

8
Hazed with blue, castles fell from his ears,
Returned to their clouds,
Followed shortly by
A.Smith’s shocked heart
Still
Protesting.

11jul09