Co-Op Live Art Fiasco

The Co-Op.
Ossett.
West Yorkshire.
8.17am.

I’m in the queue,
with Lucozade.

I need a boost.
Little sleep,
you see.

I worry a lot.

It’s a slow queue.
Lottery tickets
Lambert and Butler,
Pot Noodle.

And I wonder.
Do they know?

That every pound they spend,
on Thunderballs,
Rollovers,
and that.
Pays for art,
my wages,
and my life.

They don’t of course.

So.
This morning.
At 8.24am.
I show them.

In the queue.
I undress
completely.

Starkers!

I pour the Lukozade over me.
Strike a pose.
Stick the empty bottle
up my bum.

I’m Live Art!

I shout.

“Do you know?”
“Do you know?”
“Do you?”

The police are called.

And the constable says
to the shaking
checkout boy.

“I once saw something like this
in Berlin.
A scratch card paid for the trip.
I quite liked it.
We’d had a few.”

I’m led away.
8.46am.