The Highway

Salman Shaheen

Manufactured faces, factory-line expressions, cast

Their gazes, averting eyes from strangers,

Transfer money, gulp their cups of caffeine,

Back to work. Cycle repeat.

It’s the modern way.

But from Avebury down to Glastonbury,

On the turnpikes and in the fields,

From the festivals and all-night raves, to the circles

At the stones; they looked for another life -

Stuck two fingers up to Starbucks,

And chose, not your way, but the highway!

Now you criminalize communities, travellers

Ain’t welcome, beat them on the Beanfield,

Tell us property’s not theft; well

Why do I feel robbed?

Criminal Justice? Where’s the justice?

Justice for the criminals in the Commons,

And your coffee-house bourgeoisie -

Is it a crime to want to LIVE?

I see the way you live -

Manufactured faces, factory-line expressions;

Imagination cannot be moulded!

Avert your eyes from strangers,

You stand alone.

Transfer money, capitalism running on coffee,

Your stock exchanges spin in circles,

I’m getting dizzy -

Let me off!

LET ME LIVE!

I’ll take the highway…

February 2005