How to shrink a politician

A poem

Me and Hine were on the bus
there was some kind of political party going on 
but both of us said: Fuck that

and stayed on the bus ready to get away
and out he comes - the politician
one of those man-babies 

I keep writing around about and getting in trouble for.
Out he comes
Hine is not one to watch her words so she speaks

she says: You - straight to him – 
You said you wanted us gone
like you want our language 

up in flames
up in smoke.
Our heads exploded like old-fashioned bombs 

in the time of Guy Fawkes.
He stood up then, up on his hind legs 
there in front of us - me and Hine

and he put his paw-hands on his hips
sneered and stretched his neck out towards us
his entire furry body spitting the words: 

Yessss, I sssaid that, and I loved it!
Hine and I didn’t need to turn our heads to see each other’s eyes
we worked as one body 

we stretched an arm out towards him
and we shrunk him
the size of a shorter-than-average toddler 

big enough to fit in a medium backpack. 
He looked oddly cosy, his big man-sized head sticking out.
She picked him up

and he hung on Hine's back.
Then it was my turn:
I looked at him and I guess then the ancestors took over

because I don’t remember much -
the falling darkness 
my vision narrowing in on that face

the sound of Pele, of boiling lava 
the words mamae and rage.
When I came back I knew the curse was complete.

We were done 
and we watched him 
toddle away.