Nothing new for this street, this city

There’s a man yelling outside my house
While sirens punctuate the night

A crime is happening a fire is spending someone is dying never forget

Still he is yelling quite plaintively
Not the usual shit
Yelling almost in love:
“Why don’t you come back?”

I think to have sometimes known what he means
But more likely I would be loudly protesting
“Were you really here at all?”

A crime is happening a fire is spending someone is dying never forget

Published
Categorized as musing

By Eleanor Jackson

Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet, performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal about town, feminist, freewheeler, and friend.

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