I
An ambulance like a scalded cat goes by, people stare as if it’s a new thing
They stop and they hope? While it sings.
II
buses stop
only
people cross
seagulls depart
when you are not there
teared up roads
in
all
directions
cannot
firecrackers
but do you?
choose one
crackle
ever look?
III
Flags swing in sync with the wind.
Like wind chimes indicating how strong the wind can be.
Green and blue flags, holding onto their sticks. The earthly colours.
They observe the city silently flailing above people as raindrops bounce off their heads.
When are the raindrops not falling? And where do they go? The city is rotten and moldy.
grey clouds haunting the skies
halloween decorations are up
hearing voices on the streets
their sirens are different
just a collection of tunes
the crossing cries repeatedly
they go on red not on green
what is wrong with you and me?
IV
People are dining inside a restaurant.
Clinking cutlery along the songs.
The restaurant with black walls and neon lights, feeding people endlessly.
People sit in front of people, meeting day by day.
While the light keeps turning darker and shivers.
It still smells delicious.
people under umbrellas walking fast
never ever looking up
sirens blaring behind leave a trail
sun rays playing hide and seek
tall trees on the footpath side by side
yellow door in between the greys
is that the one you are looking for?
V
There are reflections of moving cars on glass windows. And also, of moving people.
Also, of moving seagulls and clouds. Coexisting and alive.
The transparency is obvious, perfect for this city.
People are blind, and the city is transparent.
All the reflections dance on the whim.
The red shop on the corner has the aroma of freshly baked pizza in the air.
It slows down people.
Then there is that yellow excavator.
Picking up fallen debris of that half-demolished building.
The excavator is always doing that.
Especially in the morning.
It’s like an alarm.
A reminder.
But it needs to do what it needs to do.
Car tires screech on the road too.
These roads are old, and so is everything else since that’s the time’s illusion.
VI
they add some green here and there
they don’t even care anymore
they build homes out of myths
or at least pretend to
people walk like machines
under the malfunctioning fantasy
don’t you feel
that you can’t, see?