Rounding Up the Cartel
An Ode to the Ten Minute Walk from the Train Station to My Office In the Centre of Sydney City, Australia. My Corporate Prison.
Three nights in a family motel in Terrigal
You've worked so hard for this annual.
An entire year for three nights in a motel.
I try to sound excited for your family, three
nights! I say, and I get my coffee free.
Your shop's become my morning routine.
Now-familiar coffee stop family treasure.
Dawn risers, you make my own life feel like leisure,
Even more so when I get my coffee free.
I leave you at your booth of small coins and smiles,
With streets to cross towards my nine to five
Paper cup and I are stopped at traffic lights:
Four men, one in a wheelchair, at several intersections.
Four men, four different stations, four heads in one direction:
A set of tall legs scurrying heels across the street.
Her long bleached hair, pink artificial flower,
Pretty j-walker wields short-skirted power.
Wonder where she's going to holiday.
Blinking green light and the spell is broken.
Each man to his respective storeys-high,
And I to the five by five for which I'm spoken.
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