Sell the car.
Get off the bus
Ignore the bike.
Hit the ground walking
let the buildings do the stalking
Stop staring at those passing faces
On a conveyor belt to God knows where.
Don’t walk the streets
Let them walk you
Duck the straight line of the road ahead,
the linear prison of the motorist’s eye
Walk, walk, up, down, around town,
don’t ask why.
Here, there, stop,
Let the nooks and crannies be your guide
Unlock the history that cities always hide
in townscaped mystery
From uncurious commuters they can’t abide.
Buy a whole book of poems by Victor Keegan HERE.