It’s like a puppet show with legs
an interchangeable sea of protestors
stomping through the umbrella trees of Hyde Park-
a surge of chants spilling in spasmodic waves through the crowd: No War No War No War No War No War No War
The placards held high are an angry blend of Marxist ideology,
imaginative word play & the disgruntled marginalised voices of grandmothers, unionists & the young:
COALITION OF THE UNWILLING
Let’s Try Pre-emptive PEACE
STOP THE MAD COWBOY DISEASE
NO OZ BLOOD FOR OIL
EMPTY WARHEAD- FOUND IN WASHINGTON
Regime Change: America, Australia, Britain
BEER NOT FEAR
SAY NO TO THE ASSES OF EVIL
It is gridlock, as we wait hours for the hundreds of thousands
in the march in front of us to proceed-
we lift ourselves on top of the perplex bus shelter & pan the groundswell crawling up Elizabeth Street
later, noting the time, we power walk towards Central
to catch a South Coast train home
The euphoria, the camaraderie, the compelling speeches
the street theatre of the White Angels of Peace
the paper mache Howard dog repeatedly kissing George W Bush’s ass; the familiar sketches of the gas masked Toxic Warrior-
& on returning home & switching on the tube millions all over the world- London, New York,
Paris, Washington, Berlin, Toronto, Athens… the PM meanwhile insisting in his stilted nasaled tone-
the placid feelings seeping swiftly towards hatred:
I do not know if you can measure public opinion by the number of demonstrators…