We met in April last year Regina.
You wore blue.
I wore beige.
You said there was nothing to worry about;
Bade me move from where I stood;
Then arrested me,
You asked me for my personal details, Regina;
Put my things in a bag;
Tried to ID my phone.
You said it was to see whether it was stolen;
Asked whether I was dependent on any substances,
And smiled when I said,
You put me in a locked cell, Regina,
On a school-gym-blue mat,
Opposite an excrement-caked seatless toilet.
You said that’s nothing to worry about
When I heard a young man’s cries – and banging – not being attended to;
And brought me ready-meal and water,
And Watership Down.
You probed inside my mouth, Regina,
For my DNA;
Took fingerprints and photographs.
You said there was someone here to see me;
Gave me pills for sunstroke and stomach;
And released me under investigation,
We met again, in August, Regina.
You wore navy, or grey, or black.
I wore grey.
You said little to me on that occasion,
Beyond acknowledging my plea;
Comporting yourself badly, for a court of law;
And convicting several like me.
We met twice more in December, Regina.
Your dress was the same.
So was mine.
You said the causal nexus was too weak to support a defence of necessity;
Asked whether I had heard Jonathan Freedland on Radio 4;
And convicted my fellow defendants,
I did not appeal your verdict, Regina.
My advice was you’d not decide on legal grounds.
You said you’d not punish me without further offence,
And a record hence.
I saw footage of you on television this year, Regina.
You wore pink,
Or some pastel shade, I think.
I know you said ‘We’ll meet again.’
Well we might o’er the 65,000 more than usual you’ve killed, year-to-date.
For them, the causal nexus was stronger;
The reform of your character – still outstanding – too late.
© JONATHAN OATES 2020 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED