where I'd heard their curtains twitched
at the sight of an asian or black man
bicycling through the main street.
Were they a whisper? Because I couldn't
hear their complaints in the kebab
shop or curry house, the drunks
were more focused on Bhuna and rice
and the police were untroubled
by women (whose husbands were out
at the rugby club dinner) in fear
of their vaginas being penetrated
forcibly by Polish migrants with vodka
laced breath. Their lights went out
at 10 and 11 pm and they went to bed.
Silence descended on the town like a shawl
on the shoulders of a sleep-dead aunt
and the majority snored.
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