Peak Hour

     Peak Hour. The men unfold from coffee cups,

       steam from the mouth, and monkey climb

  the CBD. Some women cling tight to mantras like

              a private bodice in pleated pants.

     Page boys and pigeons - high into a hairstyle,

                          they follow her.

       Homeless guy wants to deal, and bike boy

           in lycra says: 'we all work for food.'

             while dodging the amber light ..

       Then there's that sound of approval when

   the little green man begins to flash: a regiment

          of suits and scufflers cross the street

                       using Google maps ..

The chill from the upper snow cap slaps us in the face.

       But we just hunch up at the shoulders,

       and we rage on.

 

Reviews

[Mark]

Sen…
This is beautiful, this poem displays something that I too believe, art is everywhere, we just need to open our eyes and minds to see it.
Your flow and word choices create fanciful images with the personality and humour of walking to work in the city
Thank you for sharing

[sen]

thanks! :)