The first last supper...

"But, Mum!" "No, buts, Gregory! You're not having that Easter Egg, and that's final!"

At the Magistrate’s Court in Harare, a crowd gathered outside weeping for men and women who carry an invisible cross.

A newsletter sent by Eddie Cross from Bulawayo (Zimbabwe) on 19th February 2007 which appeared on the Great North Road Bulletin Board, inspired this poem.

1 part Mail headline, 2 parts taste for the finer things.

Unsuspected happenstance, a womb memory with slapped face and gauntleted hands, a history sitting before you, open but surrounded by sourceless red light. Heavy winds that have borne me,

the music began to play and they couldn't stop themselves, they danced and danced, that was all they did, until they died.