Last week we went to vote in the GLA & London
Mayoral Elections. As expected, at the school
railings, were two BNP councillors with Union
Jack rosettes latched to black suites - not saying
anything, just making a presence - another man
walked down the street & said : I hope you get
the result you're after today. Like sport, like last
night we watched Liverpool get beat by Chelsea
in the Champions League & after the game the
vocal Turkish Chelsea fan was accepted by another
white Chelsea fan who asked : what's your son's
name? And the Turkish man skilfully turned
around the other fan's welcome by saying to his
son : Look, he's a Chelsea fan, just like you!
With rosettes & policies in comics the BNP
animate the streets as an adult Dandy. After
we've voted - school booths like confessionals -
a dad walks in with his teenage son to teach
him how to vote. Unshaven, the son looks like
a wereman - stunted but enthused - in a Trans
formers T-shirt. The moment touches on a hope -
I will never know which way they chose to vote.
Towards the shops in the rain - I've got new shoes
so I can't complain as such - the first scuffs fan
the leather, pips of acid drizzle. I always treat new
shoes as pets until they become a part of myself.
As we walked a honking protests brought us to
attention : the carousel van for VOTE FOR BORIS
tannoys the pavements. BNP's second choice -
a link that Boris says is of no interest. Anyway,
it drives past the school & the councillors wave.
Children in the fraggle carnival have never seen
an ice-cream van before, with so few ideas