Fab Fifty Six

I’m on this orange oblong
riding four wheels. Ready
to muscle along through
the clinging city traffic. Placing wheelchair
facing rearwards with back
against the backrest, brakes applied.
I face onto iPods in ears and
mobiles in hands and ice from eyes
and mouth – everybody googling or facebook locked.
The outside seems warmer
than inside this shell. Then in their own seclusion
a young couple shyly express their love for
each other. A busker of little English
bundles on with collapsible stool and
hand accordion in tow, he eagerly
organises his coins in preparation for a busy night.
He asks the time off his distant neighbour, who pops
out an ear-piece to give a quick glance of his watch
with no words to offer back. As all aboard prepare to
jump ship, the busker asks if this is the city –
‘Yes, it certainly is’ I say.


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