BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE WHIRLOWDALE

for JA

Peter's son is an eminent eye surgeon
who drives an Aston Martin. Peter is dead
and his house is for sale. I have only ever seen
the Aston Martin once. A taxi is parked
outside Peter's house. Gypsies have taken
lampstands and stud partition walls
out of Peter's house. Decent curtains
have gone up. Douglas says, looks like
we are getting more of our coloured brethren.
The woman from next door but two
who is older than she dresses;
I don't know how young she is,
trundles down, any news? Big Toj has reckoned
there must be a large family. Next door says,
as long as they don't play drums or build
an extension. They go back to their newspaper.
Last week we ate a disappointing Duchy Original
chicken and tarragon soup. Prince Charles.

PASSPORT INTERVIEW (OR THE "ARE YOU BROWN?" TEST)

Imagine we are at your house;
what colour is the front door?
When we open the front door,
what can we see?
Give me the guided tour.

Where are you going? Anywhere hot?
And how long for? And who with?
Does her husband know the pair of you
are carrying on like this?

What does your mother do?
And how much does your housemate earn
a week? What was the balance
on your father's last bank statement?
A dinnerlady then.

Excuse me a moment please.
I just need to take two of these.
I have a migraine coming on.

What have you eaten in the last four days?
When did you last dream?
When did you last have sex?
Or commit adultery?
What do you wear to bed?
Describe yourself naked.

Place your finger on the fingerprint reader.
This photo seems to be in order.
I'm sure we'll let you across the border.
If you'd been brown
we'd have given you murder.

Imagine we are at your house.

THE SILENT MAJORITY

I went for them in working class towns,

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.