On a black and white pedestrian crossing
holding up the traffic
with a skateboard under one arm,
he frantically picks dropped coins
lit up by car lights
that impatiently shine
from an increasing queue.
Making a nuisance of themselves
herds of teenagers migrate in time
through neighbourhood streets of adolescence
heading for streets of adulthood,
where they will be addressed
with rent or mortgage.
Some may go to prison.
o how a moment has been subjugated for eternity …. looks like you are on a permanent prowl looking for weakling of moments like these to net them into poetry
where they will be addressed with rent or mortgage. Some may go to prison. cetainly good wrote and praise worthy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your picture is like an urban version of Van Gogh' s last painting 'The Cornfield'. with flocks of teenagers flapping through streets instead of crows over stubble fields. Your metaphor of the 'migration' through time rather than space, your clever use of the word 'addressed', and the bathos of the last line, make this poem memorable.