Published On: Sat, Sep 21st, 2013

Drowning in Prejudice – Craig Cunningham

Drowning in Prejudice - Craig Cunningham

His anorak, his bonnet; home sour home.
Under a canopy of carriages, brimming with Suits
his polystyrene palm grows weary of rebuff.
The seagulls gloat, an elitist squawking chorus.
By a creek of yellowing haddock and yellowing fag doubts
he perches, always, drowning in prejudice

Lead ankles cement him in paved stone limbo
no buoy, no lifeguard, no pennies, no home.
Nine AM’s the worst, hurried weathered Suits
armed with stiff necks and rehearsed excuses,
rigid ‘sorry’s, ‘no change mate’s, a duping chorus.
Lunchtime comes and all he has is doubts

They file by in trains of soiled sorrows:
Why would we help him? Slaves of judgement
He’s probably a skag addict, unworthy of a home
or a murderous drug-dealing paedophile.
Typical. Pitiful Suits, too shitein’ to meet eyes
gaggles of school Suits who pass in mocking chorus

The worst comes at night though, the club-goers commence
Chanting and swaggers, he has no time for doubts.
They wave paper, flip gold, the nadir of prejudice,
steal his bonnet, take pictures, impose in his home.
The private school spawn of regret-ridden Suits
trained in the same ignorant art.

And his fellow street dwellers; skin thick and yellow.
Their nasally, Glaswegian, skag-induced pleasantries.
Well, he had no time for false pleasantries with Suits.
Principals are everything even if it means rejection
He pities them and their monotonous life chorus
Of self-absorbed whinings and chimneys and doubts.

After all, they are the real ones drowning in prejudice
and so he is content with his anorak, his bonnet, his home sour home.