[Here’s a short thing I wrote for Maddy Costa and Jake Orr’s Dialogues project, about BAC]

This is a town hall
Or was a town hall
Where Real Decisions were once made
Like milk bottles
People came here to box
with old gloves and mouthguards
where now there are stage deaths and pratfalls
I have been here for 
Two marriages
They said they did
And the words 
Changed things
I have lied to you in this building
And I have been lied to
And outside there have been fires
And I have whispered to you about other fires
And smashed windows
And we dreamt of revolution
As if it was a fact as real
As the chip shop on the corner
We kissed amongst the rioters
In the hidden corridors
of a fake Victorian townhouse
White masks
And memories of other struggles
mouth guards covered in stillwet spit
And we say
We can’t be sure what’s real any more
In this old town hall we no longer make 
Real Decisions
And political theatre never really changed anything
but we still breathe together

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