(Hour 19) 16.30pm-17.30pm. TEXT PROMPT: poem for a city, real or imagined

just do it

i never came down to the city often
it’s only a 90 minute drive
but there never seemed a reason
never felt at home surrounded
by so much concrete & so many people

so even though that one particular
peccadillo has been resolved
slowdriving through is still
ten times stranger than usual
cars have crashed everywhere into everything
the road’s blocked in large stretches
then surprisingly clear for others

Ryan avoids main roads where possible
using suburban streets as much as he can
gently nudging now forever
ownerless vehicles out the way
i’ve said it before & i’ll say it again
thank goodness for bullbars

without gps on my phone
i have no idea how to get anywhere
i’m not sure Ryan does either
though i know he did appropriate
an old-fashioned street directory
from one of the farmhouses we’d looted
on the way down

but the city is a ghost in more ways
than crashed cars & peopleless streets
at some point the power had either died
or deliberately been disconnected
where there should be street lights
& lights in windows of homes & shops
now just pale reflections
of the nearly full moon

most disturbing
are the piles of clothing
jeans & shirts & dresses
blown into doorways
handbags & backpacks
dumped on footpaths

& everywhere dozens & dozens
of empty lifeless shoes

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