by Zan 

Our  passive silence seemed to hold this street hostage,

Her despotic display of wealth and snobbery mars the serenity of our collective solace,

Robbed of our designated parking spot- its after eight- mass silent hysteria lie in wait.


Written in response to Ian McBryde's 'Beyond Omerta'
Exercise: Write three lines that describe what happens to your street, garden or room as the sun goes down.