Patience spent for the half hourly service
frustratingly arrives every 45 minutes
information, everything except the final destination, our destination
indecisive tourists cling to the driftwood advice of the long term visitor
A circuitous route, at break neck speed, going nowhere fast
allured to see local sites, authenticity
clusters driven past, too slow to extend a limb
or simply hoping for a different number - a lottery
Glass windows with seductive mannequins
drawing in the weak minded, taken from their track
chubby prostitutes, their ugliness exposed by the daylight
astride tacky chairs in doorways, optimistic
Street after street, lane after lane
attempting to break the urban grip
traffic lightens yet frustration brews
industrial, the frontier before country
Then, a horizon once more, patches of green and hillside villages
the zig-zag route continues, as the day ticks away
the brain and backside now numb to this journey.
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