an existential walk around the block

powerline buzzes

up close as i

tread past

it sounds like

tinnitus

i wonder

how many times

bored kids in

these streets

attempted throwing

their shoes —

laces

must be

incredibly tough

to keep hanging

like that

‘i’ll never let go

Jack, um

electric wires’

life can be

as slow as

the last hour and

a half of

Titanic and —

like the movie —

everyone has different

opinions if they

find slow sinking

enjoyable or

agonising

a ridiculing

‘wah wah wahhhhh’

trumpet

ice water

licks their feet

or else they

sing karaoke

open mic nights

wearing

ironed tights

‘my heart will

go on’

Titanic coneys

emotions related

to being human

(or maybe

people project

their ideals

onto Leonardo

diCaprio)

i say ‘hi’ to

the lady

im passing

she wears a

cement mask

and smells of

lemongrass

or maybe

only i can

hear

my own

voice

i falter by

crossings

because people

don’t put on

their indicators

i compose text

messages in

my head

‘do you

want

to

chat?’

i am

too scared

to type

and send

any of them

i am guilty

like the

cement-faced lady

for not acknowledging

human existence

fat cockatoos

waddle up

to me

friendlier

than people

i slip in

mini mud

gorges on

concrete paths

between

foam and metal

skeleton-houses

containing men in

fluro with drills

burgeoning populations

i want to tune up

my music to

too-many-decibels

so i feel a fleeting

euphoria

through thrumming

orchestrated sound

a grey ghost-feeling

shapeless shape

i can’t quite grasp

i can trace the

block

on my palm

“round and

round the garden,

like a teddy

bear…”

going on these

long, pointless walks

is a metaphor

i mean, anything

can be a metaphor

if you

want it to be

Theseus found a

thread leading him

out of the

labyrinth before

fighting a Minotaur

Emily Dickinson

wrote about walking

infinitely

from Blank to Blank

but she also wrote about

feathery hope

tickling the underside

of your heart

it will come

soon enough

a baby magpie

learning to warble

melodically from

eucalyptus trees

(or swooping you

in spring

protective strategies

i guess all animals

are territorial

so inner-conflict is

normal)

because there can’t

be poems about hope

without struggle

that’s just life

maybe i

need to

get out more

thank you for reading! :)