on a curb in a day in the capital

-
feet wheels and wind skip along these roads

crusty mountains adorn either side

& blue dreams sweep the sky.

beggars sit near, waiting

for the dust of the golden frenzy

to fall into their hands.

fingers tap away on keys, waiting

to break thru the crafty plastic-

the feet rumble on, a blur

shuffling from comfort to comfort.

the buses drag from stop to stop

the ties swing from side to side

the colours scream

from scene to scene

and the world in fury, rocks

from breath to breath

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