Walk-on

On my return from Fit World,
a public protest. Banners read:
Save the Whittington hospital!
I step into line, mumble their
chant. Sun out, striding as one.
Back home, a FB status update:
‘I’ve become a political activist!’
My FB friends don’t respond.
Tents, baked beans, living on
nothing for a dream, they don’t
understand it. How, even now,
in some blue-lit HQ, shadowy
agents are tapping my name.