So. I'm walking down the street, and I know
it's not going to be my fucking day,
when this guy crouched on the ground snarks up at me,

'Oy! That's my artwork.'

And I look down and see
he's done one of these street drawings on the paving slabs;
a majestic sweeping landscape with fields and
waterfalls and volcanoes and my
size eleven shoe prints stomping across
a mountain range.

'Oops, shit, fuck, sorry.' And I step into the road.

I hadn't seen the tram, which knocked me high
into the air, and I landed face down
on the pavement, both my legs broken, blood pissing
out of my side, adding some much needed colour
to a lake in the man's landscape. I unstick
my face from the paving and notice the guy
is drawing a chalk outline around my body.

'Get the fuck off me, and call an ambulance!' I tell him.

He runs off and evidently he did as I'd asked,
as an ambulance pulls up just eight minutes later.
Two paramedics scramble out and start scanning the road
for something. I try to holler at them but
my lungs have filled with blood and I can't make a noise.

'Nothing here. Must be another hoax.
Great street-painting though.
That guy drowning in the lake looks
almost real.'

They hang around for a bit, checking to see
if there might be someone injured under a dustbin
or something. One of them eats a sandwich.

Then the ambulance pulls away into my clouding vision.