Blanket noise, constant horns and shouts like rapier accents
shout from amongst assorted aural ingredients.
Mirror gloss men in their element, with posed perambulation and the confidence
of familiar, perform a head averted pass to avoid jangling coin boxes,
sticky paper badges and the man on cardboard .
Diners in shop windows, on show, provide bus stop TV,
the blank passenger stares of the far away mind intruding on the privacy of lunch.
Fallen ice cream, the vanilla pavement blemish marks a child’s teary moment.
While a man with a broom is moving bits of stuff from left to right, now and then picking up
an odd burger carton, sweeping forward leaving a street art pattern of litter behind.
Kids faces pressed on glass, why ? nobody knows .
Ninja Pigeon dancing amongst relentless footfall and serpentine queues,orderly, with just the right
distance between each person, edging along the side of garish concrete blocks.
Urban watering holes their few street tables claimed by the smug,
who barricade their frothy coffees and wine with garish plastic bags, filled with purchases
they occasionally admire, the fix of buying already faded.
Sharp fractured pieces of sky, trees amongst chaos, defiant in solemn stillness yet weary and jaded,
their vibrant green by city dust muted.
All is ebb and flow, wax and wane.
Ever vibrant and complex