ENGAGED & DISENGAGED

saturday afternoon on harborne high street
alarming figures prowl the pavements
men zipped up in white boiler suits & sporting face masks
cradling drums of what appears to be toxic waste
as shoppers try to scurry by
the scary white figures approach with a cheeky grin
'have ya got a minute to sign a postcard?'
i can't really think of a less promising subject
to accost a complete stranger with
than the government's new planning bill
but i relish a challenge
and perhaps it's the bright sunny january day that does it
or maybe the level of goodwill
that fiends of the erf have built up
but people respond remarkably positively
they stop and obligingly jot down their names n addresses
ask a few questions
feel like they're doing something important n purposeful
which they are
hey some of em are even offering donations
where none are being solicited
and despite the scale of this latest attack on democracy
by the bully boys in the 'labour' government
it feels good to be out there trying
instead of disengaging
we're just about to pack up the stall
when an interesting thing happens
a fleshy man in a shirt n tie walks up to me
and sticks his unpleasant-looking chubby face in mine
'i'm a member of the local shopowners' association,' he says
'did you know that this is a private concourse?'
he points to a small inconspicuous sign attached to the wall
'now i'm asking you politely to move on'
his tone is less polite than menacing
as i play for time
i get the feeling that it wouldn't take much
for this character to get pretty nasty pretty quickly
as i sense the anger rising up inside me
i work hard to let it ripple away across the water's surface
like a good buddhist practitioner
for here we are
trying to combat a blatant attack on democratic rights
by engaging with the good people of harborne
and matey here wants to push us off his patch
as we let common sense prevail
and start shifting our stall
a chill gust of wind cuts up rough
blowing our leaflets and postcards all over the pavement...
i jump on the bike and pedal into town
stopping at a cafe nero
where some song lyrics suddenly appear from the ether
and begin filling up my grateful notebook
picked up on some mysterious frequency by my inner radio dial
down to soundcontrol in old snow hill
after watching steve kilbey's new live dvd
where he strums away at a glistening guild 12-string
i feel like getting my hands
on one of those resonant little beauties
and checking out the prices
as it happens
they've only got one left in stock
a 400 squid takamine electro-acoustic
made in guess where? south korea
like pretty much all the guitars i already own
which are neither cheap rubbish nor top quality
i plug my baby into a chorus amp
and caress her to my heart's content
now the way you play a 12-string
is quite different from a 6-string
the mere effort of having to press down all those strings
encourages a lot more open fingerings for a start
12-strings also produce subtly different nuances of sound
which are great for songwriting
cos you can hear little ideas
that wouldn't normally suggest themselves
as customers and sales staff come and go
i put music to the lyrics i've just written in nero
and even work out a little bridge
on the way home
as i pedal victoriously past queues of headlights
i jam the song through again and again in my head
improvising lyrics and little bits of tune
if you happen to be in town
come and hear it at the open mike
at the island next thursday