Peter Butler – UK
One Day in the City
a brunette
left at the turnstile
half a wave
He heads briskly southward down the
escalator, ignoring the film, theatre,
tourist ads, through the hall. . .
guitarist struggling
one string missing
a few copper coins
young violinist
performing her scales
notes among the silver
. . . To a train full of nondescripts, six
stops, then rising to the smell of the
City and another day, another deal or
several, rarely pausing from the phone for
coffee, a served sandwich. From a top
floor office, staring occasionally at
robots below, marching in and out of
streets and stations, probably to nowhere
very important. By evening, deals
profitably closed, back to the station,
emerging after three stops, through the
hall...
. . . Heading briskly northward up the
escalator, ignoring the financial,
insurance and health ads., for a different
kind of deal.
a blonde
waiting at the turnstile
her plastic smile
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