I'm in the nation's capital
And it feels like the centre of the universe
Everyone drinks their coffee and ingores
each other, the cold nipping at the
skin exposed slightly beneath their sweaters
Is that where it all happens?
Do the things they decide there affect me?
The buildings' windows are transparent
WANTED signs, and I look up at them
somewhat admirably
I don't know whether I love or hate
this country
It is either great or evil, and the extremes
polarise further with my continuing to see
people people people people
They crowd the centre of the universe

-c.j.