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Nov 2017
The myriad of workers all shattered and broken
Complementary cityscapes remain inescapable
High tech offices, shimmering urban dystopia,
Eight hours spent well, dreams of eloping.

Twice daily gaze avoidance in a cold rolling tin
Public transport gaslight, nobodies talking
Level crossings stay shut without fair warning
Waiting at the lights while fending off wardens.

A twenty car pileup with zero casualties
Gridlock at rush hour, boredom eternally
Look out the sunroof towards the contrails
Dreams of escaping, a matter of urgency.

Overhead, the most beautiful of tapestries
Each one a trail to the temporarily free
The sun in this case, a dog for a flee
Migrate for a week and live on the beach.

The cycle goes on as you don't have the money
Yet venture capitalists adventure freely
All expenses paid, hands rub greedily
Shouting to the world 'I want you to pay me!'

Nothing pillaged nothing earned
Bear witness to the 'altruistic economy'
Climb onto haveness mezzanines
Stroll down avoidance alley.

Open your front door, the handle falls off
Take a smoke and climb up the chimney
Sit on the slate and draw the scenery
All glass houses need stone underneath.
Crick neck adventurer, a backpack of worries
Through the heat of day the rat-pack chortles on
Through errands and favours revenue wavers
Lunch time arrives, alone and hurried.
Tim Zac Hollingsworth
Written by
Tim Zac Hollingsworth  Brighton
(Brighton)   
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