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Array
(
[sid] => 6485
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Urban Scrawl
[time] => 2002-11-10 07:30:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I walk south,
bothered by the convolution of nature and cement. Young girls in lemon yellow spit angrily as they cross the street. How can someone who wears yellow possibly be angry? Men clamour into large grey cadillacs that scream, "JESUS is LORD" in case you forgot, or never had a clue. Life is not fast enough for the men in Volvos. People wait, blank eyes cast down, avoiding, absorbed, lonely. Manicured yards in competition with each other, man's dominance over nature. Sirens, flashing lights. wonder, dread, sadness, feigned respect as cars pull dutifully to the side suddenly, momentarily, maybe life is too fast. Odours of cigar, cologne repulsive remains of people who have come before me. Busy people with bad habits. Whirligigs, forgotten garland, Christmas lights, ancient, yet somehow inviting, spirited. An epidemic of security signs and Noma Moon Rays infest lawn after lawn. Trees growing on fourteenth floor balconies bits and pieces of nature's disharmony. Heading north, Bothered by the convolution of nature and cement. How can someone who wears yellow possibly be angry? [comments] => 4 [counter] => 192 [topic] => 19 [informant] => Ooniegirl [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => InspirationalPoems )
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