i don't mind these karaoke shows sometimes, watched the semi-finals, and one of the song choices was the hidden gem the chain off fleetwood mac's rumours album... never heard it before... go your own way hid it, overplayed on the radio, plus i was more into peter green's mac, akin to tadeusz nalepa's breakout.*

walking back from the shop
with a baggage of the usual
sedatives, ahead on the pavement
two guys, and behind them
three african beauties...
beauty soon faded, passed the two
guys on the pavement,
the three "beauties" took up
the entire width of the pavement,
nearing them not one budged
to give me space,
half a metre from them i stopped...
no no girl, i'm not going
to walk the double yellow line
of the road... move!
by stopping i peered into her eyes...
if i kept on walking she'd
fall to the ground, this is a body
6ft2 and 115kg...
does politeness have to be this forced?
have i suddenly become
a protagonist in a ralph ellison novel
or something?
stood my ground... didn't walk in
the gutter like a jew in prague or
cracow in 1942 - why did i have to force
a space for myself on the pavement?
i'm not a body of rubber, alloys
and leather seating -
i deserve the same walking space
on the designated highway of footsteps.