Thanks to my critter Vishardsh! If you're a fan of my sonder-inducing work, then you'll be a sucker for his stuff.
There was something deeply unbearable about lockdown Circular Quay. The city didn't exist to serve the inhabitants, but to strike fear into any who dare enter. It was like those spiky structures proposed for nuclear waste. But at the same time, I felt special. When was the last time George Street was this empty? The Great War? The Spanish Flu? Colonisation? Am I the first person to sprint end-to-end without obstacle since settlement? That's what compelled me to write this.
Shout out to Florita (username 'party shiter' in our hearts). She taught me I could write in metre without need for rhyme in her poem A House, Never A Home.
The image is courtesy of the City of Sydney Archives.
Pulling back, I tried to find the point of wasting precious time,
I sip and toast to normalcy, a fool's way into jealousy;
I mock and imitate goodbyes when I know that I can't deny,
That I'll be here forever-while.