Summer Holiday

 

Belgrade is a //    ‘kaleidoscopic cityscape’     //     it is also    //  burning,   it is  //    burning  // and I only just understood what that meant  //   Stay indoors   //   don’t eat sushi     //   there are tanks on the street  //   The whole point is to immerse yourself  //    take a seat   //   wear a mask  //  our passport used to be one of the best   // Croatia despises //  him  //  don’t you think it’s best to come home    //    we have barely even started     //     when we went to the police station I saw God  // he was smoking against a wall  //  his hands were full of blood  //  there were raves in our building  //  it was smooth jazz //  on Mondays we bought tiny cakes // we were tired // so tired   //   and I   //  thought it would be different this time   // politics is kneeling on our throats again //  we couldn’t take the tram //   the virus has taken all the seats  //  I’m sick and hungover   // my teeth taste like being kicked  //   I’m not coming home    //   I’m  staying out with new friends   //  I know what I said // but this   // it’s important somehow   //     more than ever  before    //  shoes have been left in the streets //  bloody //  their owners have disappeared   //  who collects the dogs that have been let loose  //  for some time I have been sleeping  //  but  I am awake    //  where are the rooftop parties  // where are the Pomeranians  //  the hooligans have been instructed to kill us with our own tears  //  don’t throw words down a well //  do you know who lives in wells? // Tony Blair //   why pretend  we have a seat at the table //  there is no table   //  I thought I saw a table once //  but it was a German Shepard  // don’t test me world   //  I have a banner and a desire to watch the news  //   disseminate  // revert & return  // my lockdown walks are awe-inspiring  // shame on the post office queue //  the traffic lights haven’t been disinfected   //  stamp duty hasn’t   //  got anything to do with stamps //  listen, carefully   // I think I might just have something to say

 

 

Rebecca Sandeman is a (mainly) fiction writer currently living in various places. Her work has appeared in journals such as Strix, Prole, Ink Sweat & Tears and Route 57.