Beyond breath-smeared windows
naked streets wash in neon
lantern suburbs hang on unseen hills.
Arcing sparking trolleys skid off icy wires.
The driver close-hauls rebellious poles
hand over hand in chilblain cold.
Inside, beanies and anoraks
muffle sleep-numbed faces
backpacks awkward on knees.
Minds fumble with the day’s doorknob
bodies dragged from foetal beds
are ranked and filed two by two.
This chosen company will sort shelf goods
wrestle building steel or jack-hammers
wrangle wheelie bins.
Bed-snug workless journey to jobs in dreams
and awake to another locked out day.
‘Back door driver,- Thank you!’
© Jack Perkins August 2001
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“Arcing sparking trolleys skid off icy wires.”
Great line.
Comment by iheartfilm — May 4, 2009 @ 12:38 am |
Wellington streets are torturous which makes it worse. Glad you liked the line. Thanks.
Comment by jacksperkins — May 4, 2009 @ 4:05 am |
Sorry, I meant tortuous.
Comment by jacksperkins — May 4, 2009 @ 4:07 am |