Words chasing him down shoebox streets


 


Words chasing him down shoebox streets

He hears scraps of conversations

walking past the pub


The bitumen peels back

revealing more words beneath to step on


The tram drivers on this route are the meanest in the City

He has to step out in front of the tram to stop them


In the Mall

gargoyles and stone lions stare down at him


In Prahran

the second hand washing machines make him woozy


He walks to the front door

of a two story terrace


The letter box is freshly painted caramel

A woman nursing a young child answers


Sorry. We moved in about seven years ago


Right house

Wrong decade


Back in the Mall

Religious fanatics hound him

Gargoyles and stone lions stare at him


He lays his face on the wooden bench

And pulls his overcoat over his head


Words chasing him down shoebox streets


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