Monday, 22 March 2010

at the kings cross roads

the curving apartments
roll down macleay st
coffee aromas
blanketed eyes

this monday morning
unlike the others
spangles replaced
by business boy ties

then the rhyming stops .....
as if a pungent garbage truck
pulls up in front of you
in the middle of a daydream ...
as if the shake of a herald
twigs you into conformity
for ever and ever...

and for a moment
you glance back
over your shoulder
and see yourself running
in the opposite direction
kicking up red leaves
from the gutter
like an old movie
your body fluid and joyous
your hair unattended
and your clothing
nothing but comfortable

so the waiting is over
the beckoning giant
has slapped you from slumber
complacent, compliant

with a take away latte
and a spit polish shine
head down regardless
and on with this rhyme