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  • my drive is measured in intersections
    So familiar now
    At times I almost stop
    Shift to glance back
    Check on where I’ve got to

    Here the busses enter the circle as if they own it

    Here taxis, betting on momentum and reaction time,
    stream through yellows and reds

    Here the lost souls make their camp
    sleep in low slung mounds
    our modern, homeless lords
    aslumber in plastolithic glory
    'neath tattered sheets of blue and silver-white
    while the smoke from their pyres
    spreads, dense and clinging

    Here the beggars kneel between the lanes
    Cupped hands
    Signs in tattered cardboard read
    “I’d rather starve than do crime”
    “My wife has been kidnapped by ninjas and I need money for karate lessons”
    “no food, no job, please help”
    “Baby at home, no food, no nappies, no job, please”

    Here the poles and signs are bent and battered
    flattened as by the traffic’s wind

    Here they have been straightened for a time, again

    Here the clash and shatter drifts in piles
    Ruby, white and amber
    Plastic gore and frag
    Remnants from moments of inattention, missed timing and fuck-me bad luck

    Here signs announce:
    Dr cure for life’s ills
    get luck in love
    Penis enlargement
    Tutoring for maths
    Paving, painting
    Call 0738753432

    at every intersection
    i slow
    look right and left and right again
    measure my luck
    simple calcs in inches and seconds
    intersections break the flow
    there, we each decide to stay
    or go
    sometimes i slow
    sometimes give it to her, gun and go
    pressing the full measure of my luck

    I measure my drive in intersections
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