Kai – The loo brush protest – SST7 scratch

7 Jul

Hi all,

here’s the final draft to my poem. Thanks to all the feedback.
It has – unfortunately due to time constraints – changed from a revolution to a protest with loo brushes. I hope the comedic aspect changes quick enough to something serious.

Sending all thoughts to Djanogly!

The Loo Brush Protest

The first day after 2013 ended,
Hamburg’s commissioner alleged
That the police had been besieged
By black-hooded kinds of people
Throwing bricks and flares
Through the glass
Of St. Pauli headquarters.
It is now burnt down.

As defence response, the police
defined the Hamburg districts
Altona, St Pauli, St Georg and Sternschanze
As danger zones, Gefahrengebiete
Which legalized the police to
identify and search
Any person without needing
any cause of suspicion.
Howbeit, black hoodies, shades and piercings
were predominantly picked
and physically seized
With no explanation at all.

We could never accept this.

2014 was 7 days young when
the TV showed white helmeted
police officers in full panoply
Searching a black hoodied citizen
For flares, billies or bricks
But all they found In his
black jogging pants was a
[take out white loo brush]
nice, white, clean loo brush,
eine weiße Klobürste.

This clip ignited our protest.
The loo brush protest.

On the 11th of January,
we, a group of 30ish black hoodies,
executed our brushmob.
We traded every drug store’s stock of
loo brushes into our rucksacks and bags.
Spreaded out, blended into the crowd
Of ordinary, innocent citizen.
At 16.32, in the danger zone St. Pauli,
we all drew these loo brushes,
into the air like Highlander
receiving his immortal power
We chanted: Klo- Klo- Klobürsteneinsatz.
Loo- Loo- Loo Brush deployment.
We jokingly displaced them as swords
We brushed the postered light posts
We claimed them as microphones
We drummed silently on every hollow object
We juggled them into the air.
We used them as our broomstick nimbus 2000.

And 16.32 and 54 seconds later,
panoplied police and horsed forces
raged into our derisible protest,
snapping our bodies like a car cracking wheat in fields
truncheoning our skulls and bones,
twisting our shoulders, elbows and knees,
shooting high voltage into our bodies
pepperspraying our eyes
27 were hospitalized,
2 still have to wake up.

All we had were white brushes,
some dotted in rusty-red,
some still shrink-wrapped
And I promise myself,
these drops of blood will spread
like measles on their skin
Itching, itching, itching
And I will scratch them
With the bristles of my loo brush
But next time they won’t be
White.

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