2001

if only it could last

a little breeze through the window
wafting in on the sound
of engines passing and parking

a shifting sands set of neighbours
has lost its form tonight
and things are very quiet

no hammering feet on the stairs
or drunk returning trendygirls
are yet to pierce this night

a night to breathe perhaps
some consensual quiet one in
a collective 'keep it down'

the convenience of city living
drives you mad with the sounds
of all the convenient people

still better to survive in this
quiet riot through thin walls
than suburban hellish homogeny


2001.12.13

#!/hhof/ph/poetry/2001