Two hundred metres off the Mt Coo-Tha roundabout
I stood on the kerb to cross the road
and ended up watching you - watching us -
as you came on in a merciless
procession in three lanes.
There were nice new cars; polished new cars
in which were encaged tense and
other-worldly self-absorbed faces.
Aggressive faces.
You were not the mates I knew in the streets.
I waited twenty minutes and crept away
weakened by your determination.
(from The Migrant - notes of a newcomer (February 1997- July 1998))
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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