An evening fracas erupts.
Alarm sounds,
Lights go on.
A spat between two cellies,
It helps break post lockdown monotony,
The boredom created when locked in a cage,
A tiny cage for night’s remainder.
Two Black men are led away in handcuffs.
Lights soon go off again.
“Black dogs” he says.
“Probably fighting over a banana.”
As long as he’s been my cellie,
After all these miserable months we’ve shared a cage,
Why is it his ignorance still annoys me so?
If I had a banana I’d throw it at him.