Recently I have been working telling passing strangers stories from my life as part of a larger piece of art in London. Sometimes these stories spark conversations with these strangers. This is one such conversation. There are many like it.

Boy From Brazil

Boy From Brazil

Is in Europe alone

Needs to make money

To help his parents

Look after his sister.

Boy from Brazil

Bought an art shop bag.

Did he have friends?

He saw he was a speck of dust,

Insignificant.

I said he was to someone

And he held out a hand

And cried.

Boy from Brazil

Couldn’t be held by me.

I looked on helplessly

As the guard told him to leave,

We were closing

And down came our shutters.

Swarms