London, May to June
We descend on the city like sand dunes
Spend our days on park benches
Preparing for external university examinations
Persona-non-grata’s
Without a name, without a whisper
Without a brain to remember anything long enough for it to register
Traffic - jams
Bohemian cyclists whizz past with French rolls stuck underneath their armpits
Listless characters squeeze between gaps and carry on to their destinations
The city tempts the observer to lose inhibition
To imagine that for a moment that he exists, without prohibitions
So I scribble my real name on a piece of paper as if I was enrolled at a normal institution
But tear it up as soon as a human shadow approaches
Behind me, the Victorian buildings remind me ironically of home
Where buildings like these replaced mud huts
And inscribed themselves into peoples minds as beacons of hope
I want to drop these books and walk back to Victoria Station
I wish to never set foot in London again during this season
I wish to conceive a dream that that rises and falls, gets demolished in wars
But always grows back again
I wish to embed myself in this foreign place
To have benches erected after me in parks that my children can sit on
I long to be lectured in a University setting
To write my real name down on papers until I get tired of it
I long to pass - this examination