Poetry from submitted by a squater friend in Europe<
We’ve lived in multi million pound mansions, raved, explored and BB fucking Qd on the roof of a 13 story hotel, slept in the stairwells of car parks and turned a grotty bedsit into a 12 bedroomed family home for us and our friends.
We’ve resided in offices in central London and run social projects out of them- we’ve climbed cranes and slept amongst the rubble of building sites.
We’ve built beds, and a kitchen in an old restraunt half underground with no sunlight, and painted the walls of our six million pound pub with pictures of the world ending.
We’ve watched movie premiers from the roof of an apartment in Leicster Square and turned the top floor of a high street department store into an art gallery.
We’ve climbed lampost laders in the streets of foreign lands, and slipped roof tiles to live in huge abandoned schools and city buildings.
We’ve served dinner to 50 people in a semi derilict factory we called home and shown 100 more to empties where they could rest their heads.
We’ve spent a night in the cells after they kicked in the door of our hospital but we still got high on the rooftops of SE1, WC2, and N16.
We’ve organised a party in a wharehouse and chased away the filth, and nutters and all the fucking minions of babylon who tried to stop us.
We’ve delivered food from the skips to churches, offices, gyms, banks and all the other places our weirdo mates live in.
We’ve slept on sofas at motorway service stations when we couldn’t get a lift and spent the next two days huddled round the gas fire in our comrades semi detached.
We slept on that boat when we couldn’t be fucked to go back to the carpet shop, and put on an art display when we could.
We opened our doors when we had them to Skum, gutter punks and faggots like ourselves and they opened theirs when we didn’t.
We wildcamped outside a corporate camp site until some spanish punks invited us to crack a squat with them and 70 of us marched through the streets of Amsterdam and kicked down the door of a new home.
We made love on top of the scaffold tower we built to keeps the cops out, and crashed out with bodies broken in trailers that would get torched the next day.
We slept by the side of the road when we should have been hitching, and fell asleep in the boot of the 5 seater car when 7 of us wanted to get from Bristol to Brighton.
We undid the tower bolts for beneift parties, film nights and boxing lessons; and armed only with crowbars and a couple of crossheads brought class war to the crown estate.
We’ve freeeeee climbed the heygate, snuck past security at battersy power station, and bolt cropped locks in brixton.
We scuttled up drainpipes and through empty windows, and all the broken bones we got were just tattooed memories of great nights out; tired and sweaty we colapsed in tree houses and got drunk in ditches around the baricades.
We’ve made queer safe spaces, and organised ourselves, built shanty towns from scafold inside a freezing cold wharehouse, and slung banners from the roof.
We move freely from Cardiff to Warsaw and beyond chasing shadows and looking for the lighting bolt inside a circle that will bring us in to the arms of loved ones.
And even when the cop, the thug, the nutter booted us out of where we lay our heads, we simply picked up the crow bar and found another place…..
We keep moving and we always find the next adventure.
Fuck the Law, Squat the World