You see me?

I’m in the chill zone.

Not the kill zone.



I sit here with my pipe, slippers and paper.

A big Sunday one.

It keeps me going all week.

The news doesn’t change much in 7 days.


I’ve got my drink.

My chair.

My umbrella.

I’m cool.

I’m relaxed.

I’m in the chill zone.

Not the kill zone.


I read a story

About my bredren, my compadre over in France.

Young man, didn’t know any better.

They call him Spiderman.

Climbed up 4 flights on the outside of a building to catch,

rescue a pickney hanging on by his fingertips.

My man clung on to save a child’s life.


See how the bystanders with their selfie sticks and Instagram

praise him from the scene below?

See how quick the main man of France

with his coiffured good looks, that’s never seen rain,

so quick to give him citizenship and a job?


Quick to laud him on a sunny day?

Quick to ignore the father who left his baby to play on the balcony.

Quick to ignore that the job they give my compadre –

Is fireman.

A job that involves running into burning buildings and saving picknies.

I want to know, will they give him protective clothing?

fire-resistant underpants or just assume he is quicker than the flames, eh?

Sometimes the papers don’t go deep enough for me.


I read a story

About my bredren, just up de road in Manchester

Ran into his neighbour’s house, it was burning to the ground.

He try and save 2 pickney.

I thought he was old enough to know better.

Too quick for the fire crews, broadcasters, bloggers or those out with the selfie sticks.

He got taken to hospital, suffering from smoke inhalation.

When he woke up

They gave him the bill.

He got home to find out he was being deported.

Such is the roll of the dice my friend, my brother, my bredren, my compadres,

When you go high profile, such is the roll of the dice.



I been here long time.


I sit here

With my weekly paper.

Any noise, I ignore it.

Any commotion, I ignore it.

Anybody screaming for assistance 999 and all of that,

I say I don’t speak English.

Ask me about the quintessential subject of the British weather,

I say I don’t like Manchester, it rains all the time.

I don’t like the feeling of water on my head.



I come from a place

where people get killed for speaking their mind and doing too much.


I clung on the underside of an articulated lorry,

spent nights as a stowaway in sub zero conditions,

then swam the rest, in the same underpants.


I will not be applying for a job as a lifeguard at the local swimming pool.

The risks are too great for trying to save drowning children.



I sit here



Minding my own business

I’m in the chill zone

Not the kill zone


Wide Awake in Dream Land