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Racing against time
in a phone booth
on a railway platform
escalator and bus
to one’s destination
then home again
for twenty years
maybe longer
in the case of twentieth century primates

Who answered phones and read faxes
printed out email
then slept
alone
on Saturday nights
after fights
in traffic
stairwells
convenience stores then restaurants
where the food was either too cold or hot or spicy
depending on one’s bent
or need
urban beasts

Aggressive creatures
who stalked traffic lights
rented videos
brushed their hair whilst cleaning their teeth
before re-entering the work flow
of life
in that urban fuse
that parade
where time was erased
by unconsciousness
of thought

Urban beasts
watching the metre
before holidays
spent mopping up
divorcing
retrenching oneself
from the maze
that city haze
with it’s ever a light fuse
those whispers in the muse
of time
racing again
with her ever fragile grip
on life