I dance on the tumbril as house beat lurches it in line along Deansgate,
Market, Piccadilly and back to the Village,
gays going happily to execution dock before cheering crowds massed on the pavement.
Cleopatra in white waves tall as I pass.
White-capped pope too like the real one swaggers with acolytes.
Purple bishop stands by the roadside, clearly a fake.
Drag queens gyrate in a Tudor hall with the Lord of the Manor.
Cops with tight pecs and chequered caps blow whistles and brandish phallic truncheons.
Queen of the Night haughty in purple casts awesome spells on adoring subjects.
Come on, let's celebrate, outrageous to the last.

Derek Rawcliffe

reproduced with kind permission -from The Stone and the Hazel Nut - January 2000