Tuesday, July 14, 2009

That City

My time here is coming to an end.

Tomorrow, I'll be back to the city.

That city: with its polluted air, noise, the filth, and its total lack of kindness.

That city: with its beaches I love, civic amenities I value, theaters I frequent, libraries I visit.

That city, with its people: The confident, the suave, the hapless, the lost.

That city of endless demonstrations and the consequent break-down of order, while the law chooses to look the other way.

That city, with its dark obsession with people's private lives.

That city, with its palpable lack of enthusiasm and enterprise: where corner-shops remain closed on Sundays.

That city, with its pathetically repressed sexuality, where women are groped in broad daylight.

That city, where pedestrians fall into potholes, and die.

That city, which has my sweat and tears flowing through its sewers.

That city, where I once met a woman, and knew love.

That city, which I refer to as mine, but in truth belongs to no one.

Nobody's city.

That city, which I didn't think I'd ever come to miss.


  1. Hello bluebird. What a lovely name in which to speak of freedom. You write very well, and I can sense your loathing of these things which should not be; these things that should never be allowed in this world, but are. I am glad you came to my site and I do hope you will return, as I will to your site. Sandy

  2. Thank you Sandy, for dropping by. See you around.

  3. Beautiful. Hope you you find all that you wish for in the city this time.

  4. Thanks, ma'm. Yet loss of the belief in new dawns, is one of the defining traits of moving into adulthood. You bury idealism, cloak yourself in a tattered cloth of cynicism, and move on..


Thanks for giving me this moment of your life.