Keeping Shtum

The ability to cross the road
is all you can ask for
these days and hope
the flags don't get in your way.

They can blind with impunity
and keep you rigid at your desk,
working to deadline,
in a rush of banal excitement.

The same sites always seen
from the top by sore eyesight
make it difficult to act cogently
and lucid lies create walkways

which lull us into an easy path
that will constantly look
like a building site with
different people on each level.

If we could enjoy it then fine,
but someone always there to
spoil the show making untoward
comments to the tune of:

"The party's dying -
bring in more drinks!"

And everyone forced to
get drunk until it turns into a habit
so big it forges an identity for us.

And always at the same time we never look up.