Unreal City
drip, drip, drip;
the rain’s still falling
faster, then faster, even faster now
washing away everything that made
the world we knew
a world that’s supposed to be gleaming clean
is so tired, now
so unable to move forward
to deal with the slowly seeping puddles
so unable to break forth from the rectangles
boxing us in,
drawing forth chaos from the depths of the system
caging in the change
caging in the freaks that walk the street
past eight, nine, ten
clutching with cracked nails frantically at cups and butts alike
like their survival depends on their grip
their drag
their hysterical quickstep down narrow passageways
hooded in newspaper and thin polythene
fear pushing them on
now beating footpaths in unison
left, then right, now left again
thudding
single minded, orphaned
now ignoring the thousands of people
trudging the same weary march
dropping, at the drop of a hat
peels and tails
hoping to degrade
into disappearing dirt
dirt, slowly silting
into a concrete jungle
with steel boxes towering
over sandboxes and metal bars
obscuring the gradually greyer sky
reflected in neglected parking lots
in their queasy silence, tense to the ear
punctuates only by thunder
bringing forth a dry rain
thunder and random rumbles
of diesel engines
belching smog,
rising up
mingling with the open sky
smugly staring down
at the perfect little grid
the grid, constructed for convenient decay
hiding its signs in order and ease
in people walking in perfect lines
forced down that path, not down the quickest;
in buildings, still towering, still magnificently high
still bearing down on you
still obscuring any real reflection we have of us
still lying to you about what exists beyond
but is it really lying
when there’s no colour you know of but grey?
why can’t the rain wash the grey away?
why does desolation never fade?
perfect squares now fading away
obscured by a torrent of humanity
pressing forth upon its creation
now consciously choosing anarchy
crashing glass, showing now true sunshine
crashing bins, containing generations of garbage
crashing signposts, crashing fences,
crashing sandboxes, now cracked and spilling forth
crashing containers for hopes, dreams
crashing feet, hitting pavements, now haphazard
now fearful in hysteria
now rampaging, lost the beat
cacophany
replacing what no longer is an order
rectangles now have run their course
and it all falls down
We’ll sneak out while they sleep
And sail off in the night
We’ll come clean and start over the rest of our lives
When we’re gone we’ll stay gone.
Out of sight, out of mind.
It’s not too late,
We have the rest of our lives.
