You'd do well to know these roads
Like the back of your hand
But don't think of them as your world, for two legs won't take you far
In the board game
Of stops, highways and dead ends.
First, your friends:
Your blue buses with numbers and names
That slide back and forth between the four directions.
They are your lifeline, your ticket to home.
Remember where they intersect
Within the distance of your legs
And keep a round trip's worth of change
Always, for the unexpected.
Then there are the shelters and signs
Some are hidden
Others, in plain sight
On platforms, under trees, and half-built slabs of concrete.
A book, earphones and a warm jacket you'll need
For the cold nights you'll spend here
With the bus stop as company.
But don't wander too far
To the edges, where the public funding doesn't flow.
If worse comes to worst
Rely on your instincts
Run, with the youth you still have
And make it home before dark.
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YOU ARE READING
Cement City
PoetryHow to capture it all? I was no photographer My paint brushes, I have retired And words simply do not belong On a cover The same way they fit In my mouth, or march along the surface Of these pages. How to capture it all? The sounds, the smells, the...
