Stokes CroftA Poem by Sel WhiteleyFor all my Bristol friends, bravely keeping the battle going. I love you all and one day, we will triumphStokes Croft people layed their bicycles in the street, played bongos, a trumpeter, climbed on top of the bus shelter, protesters, camped outside the new Tesco, offered free fruit, vegetables and cake to people passing-by A peaceful protest until a warm, Easter weekend evening, one hundred and sixty police arrested four men barricaded on the roof of Telepathic Heights.
which young squatters had covered in colourful graffiti. And so, last week, Life came to imitate art. Banksy’s “Mild, Mild West” - a fluffy teddy bear aiming a molotov cocktail at a group of riot police. Riots came. A street with police dogs, police in full riot gear, some armed with guns. Over the noise of screaming helicopters and smashing glass, a lone saxophone player's thick, mournful rendition of Gershwin's Summertime. People drinking in The Social, The Pipe and Slippers, Telepathic Heights, Pubs kicking out. The crowd, drunk already, still angry Residents woken-up. Masked agitators.
Hundreds, fleeing baton charges, tearing up cobblestones flinging them at police.a police landrover, trashed.
Good Friday. Family business, Fred Baker Cycles, window smashed. The Bristolian cafe's door ruined. Tesco's facade completely destroyed. A barricade of bins and skips on fire, “Closing down sale” daubed on the window in red paint. Bloodied heads. The long, hot summer has come early to Bristol.
© 2011 Sel WhiteleyAuthor's Note
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