When the cities turned against their people
they stopped attracting them to their centres to live
and instead
began to push them out
in
fractions
of
buy-laws
they were displaced
the rows of covered benches
picnic tables
gazebos
stripped away
to leave no shelter for the poorest
public spaces
with "no loitering" signs
no place to sit and eat and dream
the benches once faced each other in little groups
now they are all spread apart
divided
facing away from the sun
cold wet metal
where once was covered aged wood
People used to sit in parks
for hours
even on cold days
but no seated place now has any shield for wind
or rain
to sit and think
watching the sea
we would sit for hours
and still we do
but there are less of us
and the shivering makes us leave soon
The parks are ringed with community images
of people playing drums and instruments
communicating
but drums bring complaints and police
in a very short time here
When the cities turned against their people
you needed a permit to gather, or even play for change
The accountant has no need for rolling stones
the manager sees no profit
in a slide lick harmonica squeel
the City itself
would rather feel
the screech of a bus braking
hisssss.
When the cities turned against their people
The roof covering the empty seats
of our gladiator stadium
spectacles for those with hundreds to spare
is assured in perpetuity
while a human rat
scurries around corners
searching for an awning that sticks out
one inch more
When the cities turned against their people
the phones in parks
were stripped away
no need for any screaming girl to call
if she has no monthly cell plan
and police,
once a whistle from each others hearing
now speed past domestic abuse on the street
oblivious in sealed air conditioned bubbles
of paramilitary isolation
enhanced tasers and mil grade laptops in their soundproof cruisers
When the cities turned against their people
the poets and violinists
were made to pick rocks and garbage
not because they needed picking
a Machine could easily do that
but the idle hands of poets and painters
the idle lips of bards
need to be flogged daily
lest celebrations be seen
spontaneously
without a permit
When the cities turned against their people
They used traitors within the people themselves
the people
against themselves
turned
against
them
self
When the cities are finally empty of human culture
will they smile?
(W.I.P...)
C. Taylor
